


Come What May

by myapatheticnature



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, I protect my lesbians!, Moulin Rouge! AU, but no one dies!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myapatheticnature/pseuds/myapatheticnature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aspiring actress Carmilla falls for penniless writer Laura.</p><p>What happens when truth, beauty and freedom meet jealousy, anger and betrayal?</p><p>Moulin Rouge AU with a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparkling Diamond

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on Baz Lurhmann's 'Moulin Rouge!'.

Carmilla sat at her dressing table, re-applying eyeliner and touching up her lipstick. She looked at her reflection in the mirror; pale skin glowing against the deep red and gold décor of her dressing room and long dark hair falling in curls around her face.

Tugging at the straps on her signature white and silver dress, she smirked. She looked like a star. She _was_ the star: The Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge.

“One day,” she told herself, as she did every night. One day, she’ll fly away. Because one day, something will happen that will take her to where she’s really meant to be. There would be some occurrence – maybe even just the smallest of happenings - that would make the past six years’ worth it. That would make the pain of them all disappear.

When the owner of the Moulin Rouge, William, had found her with nothing, he’d promised her everything. He’d sworn to her that his nightclub was her chance and that following him would get her where to she desired to be. With nothing to lose she became a courtesan, with Will ‘guiding’ her on her journey to fame.

Carmilla yearned to be a Hollywood star, like the great Sarah Bernhardt, to be respected and be known for something other than selling herself. Here, nothing was hers to own; she sold her ‘love’ to men and women almost every night of the week - _only_ her love, nothing physical. She made people feel wanted, cherished; but they never got her body. No – only one person owned Carmilla’s body.

The Dean.

The Dean had entered Carmilla’s life a few years after she began working at the Moulin Rouge. Will had introduced The Dean as an investor who wanted to turn the nightclub into a theatre, as their ticket to better things. However, she’d come to be so much more than that.

What had started out as a business venture into the Moulin Rouge, had distorted into an investment in Carmilla. The Dean was a possessive, power-hungry woman, who had developed an obsession with the young star. Due to her fixation, she’d almost instantly forbidden Carmilla from selling herself to anyone, but Will had insisted that in order to fund his part of the theatre renovation, he’d need to keep her on as the clubs main ‘attraction’. So they’d struck a deal, her body belonged to The Dean, and the only thing sold to punters was her company, her love.

That part would end soon though. Tonight would be one of her last as a courtesan, an official one anyway; she had no idea how much longer she would remain The Dean’s, but the transformation of the club was paid for, the renovation would begin in a week. Though of course, Will being Will, had decided to milk every last penny out of his Sparkling Diamond by throwing three consecutive closing nights - this being the first.

“One day, honey,” a soft, familiar voice spoke from behind her. A hand was placed on her shoulder and Carmilla put one of her own on top of it, smiling in the mirror at Perry; the only real friend she had in this fucked up underworld they called home. The redhead had been there to pick her up through it all; on days when the walls had closed in, on evenings when customers had crossed lines, on nights when The Dean had been especially rough. It was who Perry had picked her up and brushed her off.

“It’s almost show time,” Perry nodded her head towards the sound of cheers, and Carmilla could hear Will’s voice, addressing the hall of men and women waiting eagerly for the show, riling them up. She breathed in deeply, taking one final look in the mirror before standing up and leaving in the direction of the chanting crowd.

***

Her number on the swing had gone well, like always. She’d been grabbed at, shouted at and paraded around to folks who believed that their contribution of a diamond necklace or some expensive trinket meant that they had some sort of claim on her. That she would succumb to them at the sight of a beautiful gem, that it was enough to make her fall in love. They were fools. Carmilla knew nothing of love, except how to create the illusion of it. She knew how to promise it, but never truly give it.

She was in the middle of the dance floor, having a costume change under the cover of Will’s ‘Diamond Dogs’ who were dancing around her, shielding her from prying eyes. Ell, the lead can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge, had her head turned away from her audience and as always, was watching Carmilla instead. She shot Carmilla a look before breaking the circle of dancers and moved out of the way to let Will into the makeshift dressing room.

“Kitty. I hope you’re enjoying these last nights as much as I am. It’s safe to say you’ll be sorely missed.” He smirked as he pocketed a wad of cash into the red waistcoat of his black and white tuxedo.

“Is she here, William?” There was no need for specifics, both of them knew who she meant. It was the same question she asked every show night, and Will’s reply never changed.

“She is. And she wants you in The Elephant after your final number.”

“I guess I best go pay a visit to her booth then, so she can mark her territory for the thousandth time.” Carmilla sighed and made to leave, but Will grabbed her wrist, a mischievous grin on his face. Her heart sank. He was up to something; money always did make him cocky.

“I actually don’t want you to pay any attention to her this evening, during the show at least. I think she needs reminding of how precious you really are...” He released her wrist and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She wanted to say no, to tell him it was a stupid move; pissing her off now when they were this close getting what they’d both worked so hard to achieve. But she didn’t.

“What’s the plan?”

Will grabbed her hand and led her back into the view of the revellers. Cheers erupted when she re-appeared, now wearing a backless, floor-length, blood-red ball gown. She plastered on her best smile and waved to the onlookers, as Will took her up some steps to stand on one of several raised, circular platforms that were in the room. She knew this one was closest to The Dean’s booth, but refused to look over in that direction. She could feel piercing, silvery-blue eyes watching her every move. Will stood behind Carmilla with his hands on her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder so he could speak into her ear. He turned her to face the booth that was just to the right of The Dean’s.

“Look at Lafontaine’s booth, Kitty. Do you see that pretty new face? Looks like they’ve finally got themselves a writer.” She continued to wave and put on the normal show, but squinted through the mayhem to see LaFontaine sat in their regular spot with the rest of their acting troupe; she recognised Danny, the tall redhead and Betty; the just as tall blonde one, along with the other regulars who’d she’d never met but who always seemed to be involved with LaF’s many projects. Tonight, however, sat in the middle of them, was a beautiful girl with golden hair. She wasn’t like LaF’s usual crazy crew; from afar she seemed timid, quiet, and nervous. “Kitty, I think you should pay our old friend a visit, I know they’ve been dying to talk to us about producing the theatre’s first play, and it wouldn’t hurt to get acquainted with that cute young writer.”

This was a bad idea. But it was too late.

“Ladies and gents! I believe it’s come to that point in the night when our Sparkling Diamond chooses one of you lovely people to dance with!” Immediately after Will’s announcement, people were climbing over one another to get onto Carmilla’s radar. Though it was useless, it always had been. It was always The Dean or one of the acquaintances in her company who got to dance with the star. Carmilla risked a glance over to the older woman. There she sat, in her usual position wearing her black pantsuit that made her look powerful but sexy all at once. Wavy, black hair swept over one shoulder. Staring at Carmilla with that smug look which the younger girl loathed. It was a look that said: ‘You’re _mine_.’

Maybe it was that what did it, or maybe it was simply fate pulling her along, but she looked away from The Dean and fixed her eyes onto the stranger sat with LaFontaine, then began walking over to the booth. The room fell quiet as she reached the table and for the first time that night, her own dark brown eyes locked with hazel-brown ones. Carmilla attempted to read the strikingly beautiful face before her; it wasn’t showing the usual complacent, arrogant look she was accustomed to seeing whenever someone won her attention. She could see awe, confusion and bewilderment there. It was as if this stranger didn’t believe she was worthy of anyone’s attention, let alone Carmilla’s.

“Ms Karnstein, let me introduce you to Laura Hollis, the writer of our new show. She-,” LaFontaine had stood and began to speak, but Carmilla didn’t need to hear anymore.

 _Laura._ She refused to acknowledge the strange, new feeling in the pit of her stomach as the girl before her gave the smallest smile.

“Miss Hollis. Will you dance with me?” Still watching Laura carefully, Carmilla held her hand out. It was shaking, why was she nervous? Did she actually care if she was refused? Laura stayed frozen, obviously lost for words. Remembering this was part of the show; Carmilla turned to the crowd and pouted. After a chorus of ‘awws’, she turned back.

“I’m afraid it’s ladies’ choice, sweetheart.” She smirked and gave the girl a wink. This seemed to push Laura out of her rut, and with a shove from LaFontaine and Danny; Laura got up and took Carmilla’s hand then followed her out onto the dance floor. The other dancers took their places and the music for a waltz began playing. The waltz was Carmilla’s favourite type of dance, but it was also really intimate, and she knew that to a nearby, probably seething Dean, it may as well have been sex.

Still, she interlocked one of her hands with one of Laura’s, and placed her other on the blonde’s waist. She would pay for it after the show. The tips of her long fingers could feel the bare skin of Laura’s back; she wore a gown similar to her own; backless, floor-length, but all black. The colour illuminated Laura’s naturally tanned skin. Carmilla pulled her closer so that they were face-to-face, chest-to-chest.

The two stood in the middle of the room. Turning slowly and out of rhythm with the night - a black and red blur. Carmilla was looking around the room, but not really seeing anything. Occasionally she’d steal a glance at Laura, then avert her eyes elsewhere when the smaller girl caught her out, both of them smiling shyly. _Shyly_. Carmilla had never been shy in her life. She was a courtesan, a seductress, but there was nothing about Laura Hollis that said ‘earn me’ or ‘seduce me’, and it threw her. The hand that was placed on her shoulder began moving upwards and Laura’s head moved forward, so that their cheeks were touching.

“It’s so wonderful of you to take an interest in the show, Ms Hollis.” Carmilla spoke into the playwright’s ear.

“Err,” Laura pulled back to look at the courtesan, and cleared her throat, “Well, it sounds really exciting, and I’d love to be a part of it. Assuming you like what I do, I mean, what _we_ do. And please, call me Laura.” She smiled wide, and Carmilla couldn’t help but smile back.

“Laura,” The blonde’s grin returned to a shy smile as Carmilla said her name. “Tell me, how did you end up in this dark corner of the world? I assume it was your work?”

“I wanted to write about truth, beauty, freedom.” She looked around the room and then back at Carmilla, “Most importantly, love. I thought coming to a place like this would give me a challenge. You look around and it’s so much harder to find those things in plain sight. You have to really search for them here.”

“I see. Well, you’re correct in thinking it would be a challenge. I’ve been here for most of my life, and I have to say that love is not something I believe in.”

A frown crossed Laura’s face and it bunched up in obvious outrage. “How can you not believe in love? Above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen. Love-,”

“Okay cutie, don’t hurt yourself. You’re obsessed with love. I understand. But someone like you shouldn’t search for love in such doomed places.”

“That’s slightly contradicting don’t you think? I’m dancing with a woman who sells love in a doomed place, am I not?” Laura challenged.

“Exactly, cupcake. The love here is the kind you buy and sell. It’s not honest, beautiful or free.” Carmilla watched as Laura bit her lip and looked down. What she’d said seemed to trouble the girl, and Carmilla found herself wanting to put a smile back on that beautiful face.

“Maybe so, Ms Karnstein, but I see that the majority of this room happen to crave yours. And-and I find it hard to believe that anything that comes from you isn’t truly beautiful.”

The comment shocked the brunette. She could tell Laura had said it just so it could be heard, not because she wanted or expected anything in return. Which to Carmilla hadn’t happened in, well, ever. Someone always wanted something from her. She could feel her own heart rate quicken as they both continued to stare at one another. She needed to get a grip. Letting out a shaky breath she tore her eyes away from Laura’s, looking around the room nonchalantly in a poor attempt to seem unaffected.

“What can I say sweetheart, I’m an extremely good actress.” Carmilla dragged out slowly in her velvet voice, attempting to keep the mood light.

Carmilla watched the blonde’s face change as she seemed to remember that she was here tonight on business.

“The play! I almost forgot. So LaFontaine told me that I’d have to pitch my story to you and that you’d put a good word in? I have some poetry as well if you’d like to hear that? We could do it somewhere more private?” Laura rambled on. She must do this when she’s nervous, Carmilla thought, and a small smile reached her lips. This girl was too much.

“Really? A private poetry reading huh?” She began to trace her fingertips along the bare skin of the writer’s back. Carmilla leaned forward so that her left cheek was touching Laura’s right, and her lips were grazing her earlobe gently. She looked over at The Dean’s booth before she spoke, looking the still observing woman right in the eye.

“I _love_ a little poetry after supper.” The courtesan had intended to watch The Dean’s reaction, but there was a sharp intake of breath from the smaller girl in her arms and she felt fingertips being dug lightly into her shoulder. Carmilla was lost in the sound of Laura breathing heavily into her ear, and she started to pull back to look at that stunning face but as she did she caught sight of The Dean. The Dean was leaving her booth slowly and with a calm, neutral expression on her face. It was too calm. Fuck.

“Are you okay?” Laura’s small, sweet voice reached Carmilla through her rising panic. Before she had chance to reply, a firm hand was yanking the brunette away from Laura, and for a moment Carmilla wasn’t sure whether she would be able to let go of the blonde. She didn’t _want_ to let go.

“Kitty. Kitty. CARMILLA.” Will’s raised voice snapped her out of whatever small episode she was having. “She’s leaving, Carmilla. Leaving! Do you understand me, or have you actually lost your mind?”

“Yes, William. I can see that. She’s leaving because of your _childish_ need to play games! I was just doing what you _told_ me to do.”

“I said piss her off, Kitty. Play hard to get. Be the tease that you are. Not play star-crossed lovers’ with the show’s potential new playwright! I’m gonna go attempt to clean up this mess. I suggest you make your way straight to The Elephant, have Perry dig out your very best corset, and prepare to make tonight _extra_ special for our _dear_ Dean.”

Carmilla turned to look for Laura, who had been stood nearby, watching the two of them intently, but Carmilla knew that if she was still stood there, then she hadn’t heard any of that. Good. She started towards her, but an on-looking Will moved between them, pushing Carmilla back roughly. “I _said,_ The Elephant. _Now_. Show’s over, Kitty.”

Shooting Laura an apologetic look over Will’s shoulder, she turned and walked away. Swallowing hard at the thought of what the rest of the night had in store for her.


	2. Your Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made. Stories begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Mild violence.

Laura contemplated going after Carmilla. She had no right or reason, she knew that, but the courtesan had looked so pained, and then Will had come along and furthered the woman’s obvious despair.

She watched, confused, as he sped off in the opposite direction - hadn’t he told her go to The Elephant? Where was he going? The blonde looked on as Will approached a woman whom Laura had not seen before, but knew who she was as soon as she laid eyes on her. A thin and tall figure with the poker-straight, black hair and suit to match. Yes, that woman definitely fit the description Lafontaine had given her.

The Dean dwarfed Will, and not only in height. She stood over him with a scolding look on that flawless face, remaining silent as he grovelled, clearly desperate for her not to leave. His efforts seemed to be in vain as she turned on her six-inch heels and strode out of the Moulin Rouge.

***

She really wasn’t sure what she was doing there. It’d be easy to say that it was her ambition, her desire to write the play that took her to the door of The Elephant room. That’s what she would tell LaFontaine, but Laura knew that there was another reason, though figuring out exactly what that reason was could wait until later.

Knocking timidly on the door, she waited for an invite, smoothing down her dress and letting out a deep breath.

“Please, come in,” Carmilla called in a low, husky voice.

Laura walked into the room, but tightened her grip on the door handle when her eyes fell upon the brunette, well, the back of her. The taller woman was stood on the other side of the metallic elephant, looking out of the heart-shaped window/balcony. She was wearing a long black lace gown, which did nothing to hide the corset Carmilla was wearing underneath, complete with matching black underwear and suspenders.

Which, _wow_.

Laura cursed inwardly as Carmilla turned around, having heard the blonde’s unintentionally spoken thoughts. The brunette’s eyes widened when she saw whom the voice belonged to.

“What are you doing here? You can’t be here.” Her voice was calm but Laura could see that Carmilla’s earlier relaxed, seductive posture had evolved into a stiff, conflicted one.

“I-I know that you were expecting somebody else, but er- she just left and I wanted to, erm,”

“You wanted to have that poetry reading?”

“Yes.”

_No._

“The Dean, you saw her leave?”

“She’s gone, Will tried to stop her but she seemed pretty furious.” Laura didn’t miss the way Carmilla seemed to shiver when she said that. LaFontaine had told Laura that The Dean had an: ‘overbearing fondness’ for Carmilla, and while that may have been entirely accurate, the writer sensed it was something far darker than people such as LaF had perceived.

“Very well. Do you have anything prepared?” Carmilla moved forward toward the blonde, eyebrows raised and a playful smirk on her face. Laura couldn’t keep up. She was hot then cold.

“Erm, yes, it’s a poem. About you, actually.” The blonde watched as the confident, guarded façade Carmilla held waned for a second.

“About me?” Her tone was genuinely disbelieving.

“Yes. Earlier, when we danced, and when I watched you perform, I forgot what I’d been writing for days. I completely blanked but I’ve come up with something better, I-I think.”

“Well, I’m entirely flattered to be your muse, Ms Hollis. However, I don’t want you to _read_ me your poetry, I want you to sing me it.”

Laura’s brow furrowed in confusion, but before she could question it, Carmilla continued.

“I want you to sing your words how you think they might sound on stage. You will be writing a musical after all.”

Okay. This was unexpected, Laura hadn’t prepared for this. She looked to the floor, concentrating, thinking of the words that had been in her head since Carmilla had took her hand earlier that night and trying to see how she could do them justice in song. The idea of reciting her poetry for this woman had been unnerving enough, but singing it made her want to jump off the balcony, frankly.

“I mean, if you’d rather not I understand, I’m just not sure how well you could write a musical if you can only convey your writing in poetry…” Carmilla was patronising her, badgering her into doing this, and Laura was becoming annoyed that it was working. So she turned her back to the temptress, trying to block her out.“…I just thought you had more potential than Lafontaine’s previous choices, I thought you might have been diff-”

_“_ _My gift is my song..._ _”_

Laura sings. Then pauses, listening to Carmilla’s heavy breathing. She’d quietened almost instantly. The woman hadn’t thought she’d do it. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at the courtesan and grinned.

_“_ _...And this one's for you..._ _”_

The brunette’s jaw was clenched and the brown eyes that were fixed on Laura’s softened. Enjoying the effect she was having on the taller girl, the blonde turned round to face Carmilla and continued.  
  
_“_ _And you can tell everybody, that this is your song,_ _  
it may be quite simple, but now that it's done._ _”_

“We didn’t get a chance to finish our dance earlier.” Laura took a step forward, holding her hand out to Carmilla, who took it uncertainly. She then brought her other hand up to Carmilla’s cheek, stroking her thumb across it, as she had done to her before. Carmilla’s hand was at her back again, trailing the tips of her fingers up and down, so softly and gently that Laura wasn’t sure if they were really there at all.

_“_ _I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind._ __  
That I put down in words...  
How wonderful life is, now you're in the world. _”_

By this point Carmilla had closed her eyes and was leaning into the hand that was still cupping her face.

“Is this okay? Is this what you want?” Laura questioned, tentatively.

“More please. Keep going. Please.” Carmilla kept her eyes closed but pressed her forehead to Laura’s, she was hanging onto every word.

The blonde tried not to think about how the close proximity with Carmilla was making her head spin, so she cleared her throat and continued shakily.

_“_ _I sat on the roof, and I kicked off the moss._ __  
Well some of these verses, well they,  
They've got me quite cross,  
But the sun's been kind, while I wrote this song,  
It's for people like you that, keep it turned on _…”_

Carmilla’s breathing was ragged now, Laura couldn’t figure out why her song had such an effect on the brunette. Surely she was used to this kind of affection? People wooed her daily, yet just a few of Laura’s honest words seemed to mean something to her.

Laura’s thoughts were derailed as Carmilla pushed her away, head snapping towards the door. She followed suit, listening, and could hear Will’s muffled voice becoming louder and louder.

“Hide. Now.” Carmilla said not even looking at her as she patted her hair down and smoothed out her dress. Laura hesitated for a split second before running to hide behind one of the red and gold drapes in the corner of the room. She stood there, not breathing and listened as the door opened. She heard Will’s voice.

“Carmilla, darling. Are you decent for The Dean?”

“That depends on what your definition of decent is…” Carmilla drawled out. You’d have no idea that just a moment ago she was half way to passing out in the middle of The Elephant. Nothing in her voice was giving her away.

“My dear Dean, I’ve been expecting you,”

“Is that so? Leave us, William.” A low, stern voice spat out. Laura heard the door close after a moment. Then silence. She strained to listen for any movement.

Laura jumped when she heard a loud smack, followed quickly by a cry from Carmilla.

“Where’s your pretty new pet, my diamond? I do hope she paid you well; you certainly put on a _special_ show for her tonight. For a moment it looked as though you were actually capable of real love. You almost had the whole room fooled.”

“Please, my Dean. I was simply trying to acquire us a writer for the show. I am aware that they don’t come cheap, so I figured some sweet-talking on my part was the least I could do after all you’ve done for the Moulin Rouge, for me.”

Laura’s heart sank. So that’s what tonight had been about for Carmilla: a business opportunity. The blonde felt stupid, for thinking she’d been an exception, for thinking that the moments between them held any truth on Carmilla’s part.

“I see. But you are mine, Carmilla, and while your intentions may have been wholesome, you still allowed her to touch you in a way that you know full well is reserved for me. I don’t think anything has ever angered me more. The girl is lucky she walked away from that floor in one piece, and now you expect her to write the production that you will be starring in?”

Another smack. Another cry.

Laura heard Carmilla take a breath, “She’s nobody. Nothing compared to you. What you saw tonight was simply two people using each other for their own gain. There was nothing romantic about it. It was real for neither of us. St-strictly business.”

A pause.

“Well, you will not take matters into your own hands again, Carmilla. You know how it pains me to punish you. You may hire the writer, if she’s up to the task, and if she can keep her hands to herself in future.”

From behind the curtain, Laura could hear movement.

“You’re not staying?” She could hear the surprised relief in Carmilla’s voice.

“No. You still have that filth on you and I _do not_ share, it reminds me that all you have ever been is just a whore. I couldn’t bear to touch you right now.”

Laura waited for the door to close shut before pulling the drape back. Carmilla stood facing away, both of her fists clenched by her side, then she turned and was suddenly Laura’s personal space for the third time that night, however this time it was threatening, angry.

“You said you saw her leave! Do you have _any_ idea what would have happened if she’d found you here? You _fool._ ” Carmilla snarled, all kindness gone from her eyes. Laura felt like a child under her gaze, so she bit back.

“Oh I think you’d have been fine, you could have just explained that this,” she gestured between the two of them, “was _strictly business,_ you know, _nothing_.” The smaller girl hoped Carmilla didn’t notice the way her voice wavered as she’d said that last word; she didn’t want to admit to anyone, including herself, that she was hurt.

Carmilla’s lips parted in surprise and the anger in her face faded. It was only at this moment that Laura noticed a small cut bleeding on the taller girl’s lip, from where the Dean had struck her. She brought her hand up to it, caressing the swelling skin, and using her thumb to softly wipe away the blood. A broken look crossed Carmilla’s face, and Laura had to fight the urge to lean in and kiss it all better for her.

So she sang instead, with her lips pressed against Carmilla’s jawline.

“ _And you can tell everybody, that this is your song,_ ”

“Laura-,”

Before Carmilla could continue, the door to the elephant swung open and in walked The Dean.

“And tell William-“, when she caught sight of Laura she stopped dead. Every muscle in her body visibly tightened.

“My dear Dean,” Carmilla said in a sickeningly sweet voice, feigning ignorance to the Dean’s obvious horror. God, she really could act. “Ms Hollis here stopped by to have an audition, she was just showing me a song that she’s written. These young ones are just _so_ eager.”

“Oh really? You expect me to believe that she came by to your room at this time of night for an _audition_? Surely LaFontaine would be here if that were true?”

“So incredibly sorry that we’re late! Bumped into Ms Perry on the way up here and we all received a small lecture about the health and safety of using explosives on stage as special effects...” Laura released the breath she’d been holding as LaFontaine entered the room followed by the whole troupe: Danny, Betty and Kirsch. They must have gone looking for her, guessing that she’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble. She looked to the Dean, who still didn’t seem thoroughly convinced, but appeared to let it go regardless.

“…Shall we take it from the top?” LaF addressed Laura and Carmilla.

“The story.” The room fell silent as the Dean stalked over to a small breakfast table and took a chair from it, placing it in the centre of the room in front of the onlookers and sitting down. When they all continued to stare at her with vacant expressions, she sighed and folded her arms and legs, settling her eyes on Laura. “If I’m going to invest in this production, I need to know the story. Right now. I assume one as keen as you had some sort of concept prepared for your little visit this evening?”

Laura looked at Carmilla, who gave her a subtle nod and a small smile. She could do this. Looking at Carmilla the ideas just came to her.

She was dragged from her thoughts when yet again; another body barged into the room. A panicking William looked as if he was about to blow when Carmilla moved over to him and placed her hands on his arms. “William, you’re just in time! Ms Hollis here is informing us of her plans for the production. Our dear Dean is here to oversee things.”

Will thankfully seemed to cotton on quite quickly, and with a quick nod of approval went to stand by The Dean. Carmilla turned back to look at Laura, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of Carmilla once. The room fell silent and all eyes were on the writer once again.

“It’s a story about love.” Staring into Carmilla’s eyes, Laura ignored the Dean’s small scoff and continued. “A story about love, overcoming all obstacles.”

“And it’s set in Switzerland!” Danny chimed in.

“No, no, India, India, its set in India!” Laura retorted, shooting Danny a look. “And there’s a courtesan, the most beautiful courtesan in all the world.” She looked at Carmilla as she said this, who looked down and blushed slightly.

“But the kingdom is invaded by an _evil_ maharajah,” Laura had to stop herself from aiming this at the Dean and instead focused on LaF this time, “And in order to save the kingdom, she has to seduce the evil maharajah. However, on the night of the seduction, she falls for the charms of a penniless writ-,” She searched around the room until her eyes landed on a small instrument, “- _sitar_ player. Yes, a penniless sitar player. And she falls in love with _him._ ” She moved amongst the small gathering of people, telling her story. “He wasn’t trying to trick her or anything, he’d always admired her from afar and he just wanted her to hear the music he’d written for her. However, after just a few fleeting moments with the courtesan, he’d found he was falling in love with her too…”

Laura braved a glance at Carmilla, who was looking at the Dean with an unreadable expression on her face, avoiding Laura’s searching eyes. This woman was an enigma: a bad idea.

“The courtesan and sitar player must hide their love from the maharajah, but the sitar player’s sitar is magical; it can only speak the truth.”

LaF piped up, “Yes, and, and it gives the game away, exposing the two lovers. I’ll play the magical sitar.”

Kirsch jumps in, “I’ll take the part of the penniless sitar player, anything for the chance to work alongside the one and only Sparkling Diamond,” He sends a playful wink Carmilla’s way, and receives only a scowl in return.

“And the ending? Should someone die?” The Dean questioned, her voice laced with sarcasm and menace. She raised her eyebrows at the young writer.

“The ending, right, well,” Laura frowned, how did she see it ending? “The courtesan and sitar player are pulled apart by an evil plan…”

“But in the end, she’s his song…” Carmilla’s voice came from behind the blonde.

Laura bit her lip to stop herself from smiling; she faced the taller woman and finished her sentence.

“And their love was just too strong.”

The moment between them was interrupted by the Dean’s voice.

“Generally, I like it.”

***

So, the production had a writer. LaFontaine and their troupe had a show.

After the antics in The Elephant, a celebratory party raged upstairs. Laura had gone back her to room write, but all she could think about was Carmilla. Was she thinking about her?


	3. Love Medley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it's been depressingly long since an update, I'm sorry, I have two jobs this summer. This is a short chapter, just a filler.

Carmilla stood on the balcony of The Elephant, overlooking the Parisian buildings that were bustling with life. She could see the bohemians partying on the street below, chanting of revolutions and freedom. Her eyes wandered to small apartment buildings, searching their windows hoping that a certain young writer may be occupying one of them, just the same as she’d been occupying her mind all evening.

“I haven’t seen you out here in a long time, dear,” Perry’s soft voice came from behind her, and she felt an arm brush against hers as she was joined on the balcony. Carmilla gave a half smile then continued to peruse the small windows.

“You looked awfully cosy with that writer on the dance floor tonight…” Perry said, and Carmilla didn’t miss the suggestive tone to her voice.

“And you looked quite comfortable with LaFontaine, speaking of whom, did they tell you the news?” Carmilla smirked at Perry’s blush and waited for the redhead to recover.

“Yes, they were just telling me about it all, actually. Do you really think it’s wise, mixing business with pleasure?”

Carmilla’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Well, you’ve taken an obvious liking to Ms Hollis if tonight’s behaviour is anything to go by, and I think the both of you working so closely right under The Dean’s nose could complicate things for everyone. I just want to make sure you’re thinking clearly.”

“Perry, you’ve thought too much of this, even if I did have the desire to pursue her, you know full well that my, _situation,_ forbids it, and I’d prefer if you’d not mention it again. Tonight was nothing more than a business meeting of sorts.”

“I see, I’ll drop the subject then,” Perry made to leave, but turned back and placed a hand on Carmilla’s shoulder, softening her voice, “However, sweetie, I must say that I’ve bared witness to many of your past ‘business meetings’, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as happy in any one of those as you were in the company of that girl, nor have you ever stood pining on a balcony for hours after.” She gave a light squeeze and then left Carmilla alone again, with nothing but her thoughts.

_…_ _It_ _’_ _s a story about love..._

_...There_ _’_ _s a courtesan, the most beautiful courtesan in all the world_ _…_

Despite what she’d said to Perry, Laura’s words floated around in Carmilla’s head, reverberating around her mind over and over. Laura spoke with passion and with honesty. Her words terrified Carmilla. They gave Carmilla hope, which she hated to admit because all her life she’d refused to live life from dream to dream. Yet now, something had shifted, something had changed. She couldn’t help but feel that her ‘one day’ was closer than it had ever been, she dared to say it even seemed realistic, and within reach.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She could overcome it. Whatever it was. As long as she kept it strictly professional with Laura there was no way that anything more could develop. Right?

Feeling slightly more optimistic, she made her way up the stairs on the left side of the balcony up to the small roof on top of the elephant. It was Carmilla’s favourite place to sit and gaze up at the stars. She was closest to them when she was there. The roof was laid with thick blankets and large pillows, and on her most melancholic nights she would even allow herself to fall asleep up there. There no one bothered her.

“H-hello?”

Or maybe they did. Tonight was truly turning out to be a first for a lot of things. Carmilla spun round, alarmed. Her heart stopped when she saw Laura standing before her. Looking as though she regretted her decision to come up to the roof.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you I just- well- I saw your light was still on and- I couldn’t sleep- thank you- I mean- I _wanted_ to thank you, you know for erm, for helping me get the job.”

“Breathe, cupcake.” Carmilla couldn’t help but admire Laura’s bashfulness in that moment. It also reminded Carmilla that this was the type of situation she’d sworn to avoid only moments before.

“LaFontaine was right about you; you’re very talented,” She half smiled towards Laura direction, she didn’t want to let herself stare too long at the smaller woman, illuminated beautifully by the light of the moon and the stars. She managed to keep that up for a few moments, but after the other woman remained silent, she gave in. Laura had apparently gotten changed for the troupe’s celebratory party, and now wore tuxedo pants with a white shirt half tucked into them, and an untied bow tie still hung around her neck. Yes, she definitely needed to get off of this roof.

“Well, it’s been a long night, and we’ve got an even longer day ahead of us tomorrow so, goodnight, Ms Hollis.” Carmilla started towards the stairs but Laura moved to block her path.

“Wait-please. Wait.” The writer pleaded, and Carmilla sighed and rolled her eyes, making the woman before her wince slightly. “Tonight, erm-we-it was intense. We said things and I- I just wondered if-,” Laura managed to stammer out, it was painful to watch so Carmilla decided to put her out of her misery.

“If it was all an act?”

“Yes.” Laura breathed out.

“Of course it was, sweetheart.”

Laura’s face fell and she looked at the floor, frowning. Carmilla’s chest tugged and she fought the urge to kiss away the pain on Laura’s face, but it disappeared anyway, and was replaced with a bitter smile on a shaking head.

“Silly of me, to think that you could, you know, someone like me.”

“Cupcake,” Carmilla stepped an inch closer to Laura, “I’m _paid_ to make people believe what they want to believe.”

“It just felt, _real_.” The blonde gave a sad smile and nodded.

“I’m not allowed to fall in love with _anyone._ ”

“What? Can’t _fall in love_?” Laura looked shocked, horrified even. “A life without love? That’s terrible!“

“No, being on the streets, that’s terrible. A girl has got to eat sweetheart.” Carmilla decided she was done with this conversation. She shook her head and tried for the stairs yet again.

“No, no. All you need is love. “

“Sweetheart, do not start that again.”

“Carmilla, give me tonight to show you. One night. I think – I think I can show you what it’s like to be loved.”

Carmilla chuckled, “There’s a price to pay for loving me, darling.” Laura knew she was talking of an actual fee, but something about the way Carmilla said that held some melancholy. There was something more than the obvious meant by that statement.

Laura just smiled wide at Carmilla, threw her arms out and shouted, “Just one night, in the name of love!” Making the courtesan laugh, _actually_ laugh at the beautiful buffoon in front of her.

“No! You crazy fool.” She said between giggles, watching as Laura attempted to act all seductive. “There’s no way, cupcake. You can’t pay.” She _really_ had to get off this roof before the inevitable singing started, she knew if that happened then what little willpower of hers remained would be lost on the roof of this elephant.

“I was _made_ to love you, Carmilla Karnstein. And you were made to love me.”

“You think people would have had enough of silly love songs.” Carmilla tried and failed to sound annoyed.

“Well, I look around me and I see that that isn’t so.” Laura brought her hand up to Carmilla’s cheek and she took the opportunity to duck round Laura and make her escape. She made it to the stairs but Laura followed, relentless as ever. Carmilla admired her enthusiasm, and couldn’t help but play along with a playful pout. “You-you will be mean...”

Laura seemed shocked at first, but her smile returned when she looked at Carmilla, and her head began to shake. “No, I won’t, I promise.”

“And I’ll drink all the time...” Carmilla threw her hands in the air dramatically and walked into the centre of the inside of the elephant. She kept her back turned to Laura, so she wouldn’t be able to see the smile on her face. She hadn’t felt this light in a long time, this carefree.

She felt hesitant hands be placed on her waist from behind, and Laura’s chin placed on her shoulder. “We should be lovers, it’s a fact.” Carmilla’s mouth dropped open slightly at the words being whispered in her ear.

“We can’t do that, Laura.” She managed to choke out. “Nothing would keep us together.”

Laura spun Carmilla round by her waist and cupped her face with soft hands. “We could steal time. Just for one day.”

Carmilla felt light headed. She felt terrified. She felt ecstatic. She’d met Laura less than 12 hours ago. Laura had nothing to offer her. No money, or security, nothing but love. Except for the first time in Carmilla’s life it felt like enough. It felt worth the risk.

So she leaned in. Placing her hands on Laura’s wrists, while her hands were still cupping her face, holding them there. Just before their lips met, Carmilla paused and looked into a worried Laura’s eyes.

“You’re going to be bad for business, cupcake, I can tell.” They both smiled clumsily into their first kiss.


	4. Rendezvous En Rouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura learns exactly what she's getting herself into.

It was about a week into rehearsals, the show was written and things were well under way. Both Laura and Carmilla had barely a moment alone; they were either under the constant, watchful eye of The Dean or in the company of at least a third of the cast, and apart from stealing a few backstage kisses, the two lovers had had no chance to continue what they’d started on the roof of the elephant. Laura was becoming restless, and the numerous pouts from Carmilla whenever they were interrupted told her she wasn’t the only one. The irritation was always worse when it was The Dean who was whisking Carmilla away, or demanding her attention. Laura would intervene whenever she could, requesting an extra read through of a certain scene, or demanding a late night rehearsal that would render Carmilla too exhausted for company. That included Laura’s, but if it kept her away from The Dean then so be it.

Laura walked into the theatre one morning, exhausted. In the recent nights she’d taken to attending parties with the cast in order to drink the loneliness of the nights away. Her heart sank when she saw Carmilla sat with _her,_ whispering in her ear, placing a hand on her thigh. She understood Carmilla’s situation, she really did, but watching her dote over The Dean was just so, _believable_. Truthfully, Laura was just worried that if things remained the way they were, whatever her and Carmilla had (if anything) would be over before it had even started. The two of them were sat watching the back up dancers rehearse with their backs to Laura, so she took a moment to gather her courage, formed a small plan in her head and walked over to stand behind Carmilla and The Dean. She bent down and put her head between the two of them.  
  
“Ms Karnstein, I’ve just finished the changes on that new scene? It’s the ‘Will The Lovers Meet In The Sitar Player’s Humble Abode’ scene. I was wondering if I could work on it with you later tonight?”

Laura watched as Carmilla froze for a moment, but before she could speak The Dean interjected and completely ignored Laura, only addressing Carmilla.

“But my darling, I’ve prepared a magnificent feast for us tonight in the gothic tower.” What she said made it seem like a choice. Clever. But her tone of voice and the look on her face gave her away. Whatever bravery Laura had found disappeared in that moment.

“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter, it can wait…” Laura said to the floor, and made to leave. Then Carmilla found her voice.

“It _cannot_ wait. It’s one of the most important scenes in the production. We’ll work on it tonight until I’m completely satisfied.”

Laura froze, taken aback by Carmilla’s sudden, and uncommon resilience. She watched as Carmilla stood up from her seat and walked away, leaving her and The Dean gobsmacked. Laura cleared her throat loudly, muttered a quick _sorry_ and then ran off in the opposite direction of Carmilla and as far from The Dean as possible.

Laura pretended to speak to the choreographer of the dancers for a few minutes, but was actually watching The Dean who hadn’t moved, seemingly paralysed with fury. The blonde watched, surprised, as instead of following Carmilla, The Dean simply stalked out of the theatre. Laura gave it another few minutes before running to Carmilla’s dressing room and bursting through the door. Her heart stopped when she saw Carmilla stood in the centre of the room, paling with every second and visibly shaking. She’d clearly been expecting The Dean.

Laura closed the door to the dressing room and then reached out to the cowering woman before her.

“Hey, come here. She left, it’s okay.” Carmilla hesitated, eyes flitting back and forth between Laura and the door, then after a few moments she fell into the blonde’s embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. Laura held her tightly, then pulled back slightly and cupped the brunette’s cheeks. She leaned in and kissed Carmilla softly and slowly, savouring it because moments like this were few and far between.

They pulled apart when voices of the cast and crew could be heard passing outside. Carmilla seemed calmer now. Comfortable.

“I need to see you, this is driving me crazy, Laura.” She ran her hands up and down Laura’s arms, taking her in.

“I know. I miss you.” Laura was silent then laughed and rolled her eyes at her own statement. “I _barely_ know you but I can’t stand to be away from you. What have you done to me?”

“Ahh, I see my romantic wiles are having the desired effect…” Carmilla teased and Laura bit her lip to stop from smiling.

“Come to my room tonight, if you want to. We can go over some lines and then afterwards we can…talk.”

Carmilla smiled wide, “I’d like that very much.” She pulled Laura in for an embrace, burying her face into the crook of her neck while Laura ran her fingers up and down her back.

“I have to go now, but I’ll be waiting for you later.“ She gave the courtesan a quick kiss and then headed toward the stage.

***

When there was a knock on the door of Laura’s apartment later that evening, she almost didn’t answer it. She’d half expected Carmilla not to show, or some kind of interruption to occur that would yet again keep the two of them apart. She left the windowsill where she’d been perched for most of the night and crossed the room, opening the door dubiously.

Laura eyes fell on Carmilla, and if she hadn’t been expecting the courtesan to be in some sort of disguise, she would of wondered who the young man stood before her was. Carmilla, to avoid being recognised or followed, was dressed in a flat cap, a blue button-up shirt with a black fitted waistcoat over the top, and matching black pants. Her appearance reminded Laura of the rag-tag newspaper boys she’d see running around the streets every morning, so she’d blend in well in this part of town.

“Are you going to let me in cutie, or shall I just stand out here for the rest of the night?” Carmilla said with a slight smirk. She removed the flat cap from her head as she walked past Laura into the apartment, and let her long, dark hair flow freely over her shoulders. Laura swallowed hard as she watched Carmilla walk around the apartment, taking it all in, looking at photo frames and running her fingers over the spines of Laura’s books which were scattered around the room. Even dressed as a working class commoner, Carmilla was still the most astounding thing in the room. Laura could definitely get used to this picture.

Carmilla stopped her exploration of Laura’s apartment, seeming to remember where she was. She glanced sideways to Laura and let out a small laugh before looking to the floor shyly.

“Sorry, I, I’ve just been imagining what this place would be like and it’s exactly how I imagined. Every single thing in this room seems to have a story,” Laura listened and watched as Carmilla continued to peruse the shelves. “Everything feels so, _sentimental,_ you know? And I’d expect nothing less from a woman who’s as obsessed with love as you are.”

“Love holds more depth than anything in this world. I’ve only ever really had my father in my life, so I learned of about it through books and stories, and fell in love with writing, but I’ve never actually been _in love_. So I suppose that’s why I pour myself into other things.”

“You’ve never been in love?” Carmilla stopped and turned to face Laura, who could feel a blush beginning to creep up her cheeks, but shook her head nonetheless.

“Never. It’s pathetic, I know. Naïve, provincial girl spouting words about love when she’s never even experienced it first hand.” Laura laughed mockingly at herself.

Carmilla crossed the room took one of Laura’s hands in her own. “No, don’t do that. I’m not judging you. I just don’t understand. How can you be so sure of something you’ve never had? That you don’t know?”

Laura looked up to meet the brunette’s eyes. “It’s funny, because I’ve been asking myself the same thing since the night I met you.”

The look on Carmilla’s face was inscrutable as she gazed into Laura’s eyes. So the blonde leaned in and stole a kiss instead: just a quick one. Then another. And another. Soon both her hands were in Carmilla’s hair, pulling her closer, and the brunette’s hands were on Laura’s hips.

Carmilla caught Laura’s bottom lip in her teeth, tugging on it lightly before capturing it with her own lips. Laura couldn’t supress a moan. A whole weeks worth of pining and almosts had led up to this and it was all pouring out in moans and gasps and tugs. Laura’s hands moved from Carmilla’s hair to the buttons on the front of her waistcoat. As much as she loved Carmilla’s outfit she needed the satisfaction of skin on skin. She _craved_ it. She couldn’t concentrate on that task however, not with Carmilla’s tongue in her mouth, so she tilted her head upwards, exposing her neck to Carmilla’s lips instead. It was better as she was now able to breathe, but the open-mouthed kisses now being placed to her neck made the act counter productive.

When the kisses turned into sucking Laura abandoned the buttons and wrapped her arms around Carmilla’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer. Laura let her teeth lightly graze against Carmilla’s earlobe; it was just about all she could manage to do. The courtesan was completely overwhelming all of Laura’s senses. How could someone be so alluring? No wonder men and women everywhere fell at her feet. No wonder the Dean was so entranced by Carmilla.

Laura immediately regretted allowing those thoughts to enter her head. It was just a reminder that Carmilla wasn’t and couldn’t be hers. Not yet and maybe not ever. Did Carmilla even want to be hers? Laura pushed that question out of her mind. After all, she was _here_ , she’d risked everything to come here, so that had to count for something, didn’t it? Laura was brought back down from her panic when she could no longer feel Carmilla’s lips on hers. She opened her eyes and realised the internal debate she’d been having with herself hadn’t gone unnoticed, as the courtesan was looking at her searchingly.

“Laura? Was that too much?” Carmilla started to pull away but Laura retained a hold around her shoulders.

“No no, that was definitely not too much, I just- I can’t believe this is real, that you’re here. That you _want_ to be here.”

“Me neither.” Carmilla teased, but as soon as Laura pouted she pulled her chin up so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “There’s something about you. I’ve wanted nothing more than to be here all week, cupcake.”

“I wanted you here. You could have been here.”

Carmilla’s brow furrowed and she looked pained.

“I couldn’t. You have no idea how much danger I’m putting you in by even being here. What she’ll do.”

“Carm, the Dean’s obsessed with you yes, but you can’t possibly know what she’ll do-“ Laura stopped when she saw something flash across Carmilla’s face. It was guilt. It was pain. And in that moment Laura realised. _She wasn’t the first._ Carmilla knew exactly how the Dean would react to this situation because it had happened before. Laura stepped back and created space between herself and the courtesan.

“Laura-“

“What happened?”

“It’s in the past.” Carmilla snapped and her eyes became cold.

“I have a right to know. If you want me, if you want this.” She gestured between herself and Carmilla. “Then you’ll tell me what I’m getting myself into.”

Laura waited while Carmilla seemed to mull over this ultimatum. After a few moments she relented and pulled Laura to the window seat.

Carmilla took a shaky breath and looked out of the window. Laura thought she’d never looked so vulnerable.

“When I first came to the Moulin Rouge, I struggled with what Will wanted me to do. I didn’t know how to be alluring or desirable. I didn’t think that I had anything to offer. I didn’t know how to make people want me. When I told William this, he simply told me that I could either adapt to this life, give it everything, or he’d replace me and leave me with nothing. Eventually though, he took pity on me. He introduced me to Ell, and I became her protégé if you will. She taught me how to be seductive and became a true friend to me: my only friend. The friendship eventually progressed into something more. Which would have been-”

“Wait.” Laura interrupted, ignoring Carmilla’s frustrated sigh. “You were in love with Ell? Dancer Ell? The same Ell who’s had it in for me since she found out I started writing the play? Who makes rehearsals _hell_ for me as much as she can? _That_ Ell?”

“Yes, cupcake. Will you just let me fi-“

“Wait, I’m confused, if you being with someone is so dangerous, then why is Ell still walking around, looking at you longingly right under the Dean’s nose?”

“If you stopped interrupting me I’d tell you.” Carmilla muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Right. Sorry. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“I know, cutie.” Carmilla placed a hand on top of Laura’s and leaned forward hesitantly. “May I – may I kiss you?” Laura nodded and closed her eyes as Carmilla placed a lingering kiss to her lips and then another to the tip of her nose. Laura knew that the courtesan was trying to calm her down, and was thankful that it was working. She gave Carmilla a small smile and let her carry on.

“Mine and Ell’s relationship would have been fine, and it was, for a time. Will knew about it and accepted it, as long as it didn’t have an effect on business, which, with Ell’s guidance, had improved greatly. Ell understood that what I did with clients was just business, so there was no jealousy, and for probably the first time ever I was happy. However, things changed when Will and The Dean made acquaintance. Will wanted The Dean’s money and investment. The Dean wanted me, and I wanted Ell. I knew though that I would lose her if Will gave The Dean what she wanted. So I went to him. Pleaded with him. I tried to convince him that we didn’t need The Dean and that eventually people would come from afar to see me but of course he would have none of it. When I confessed that I actually truly loved Ell, he laughed in my face. He told me that I was a creature of the underworld, and that I could not afford to love, and that Ell would never truly love me because I would never really be hers. He said I had to let her go, and that if I didn’t he couldn’t be responsible for what happened to her. However, my young and naïve self, blinded by love, just went straight to Ell. I asked her to runaway with me-” Carmilla’s voice broke slightly and she stood up, facing away from the small blonde.

Laura waited patiently; she didn’t want to push Carmilla. It was clear that this was the first time she’d spoke of this in a while, if ever. Moments passed, then Carmilla turned around and leant against the desk across from the window seat, gripping the edges of it tightly.

“I asked her to runaway with me, and I knew even before I’d finished the question that the answer was no. I was shattered but it wasn’t the ‘no’ that hurt, I could handle the no. Hell, I’d half expected it; what I was asking of her, everything she’d be risking, it was hard to say yes to and I knew that. What broke me was the why…When Will had realised he might actually lose me, he’d ran to The Dean and told her everything of Ell and me. The Dean got to Ell before I did, and offered her a place as head can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge, amongst other things. Things a woman in this time could only hope for and in return Ell was to keep away from me. She convinced Ell that I had nothing to offer her, that it was stupid to put so much faith in someone like me. And Ell, whom I loved and thought loved me back, _believed_ her. She could have run away with me and we could have been together -but she accepted The Dean’s offer. I went to Will, betrayed and looking for answers or an apology, at least. He told me I should be _thankful_. That Ell would be dead had he not convinced The Dean to make an example of her, had he not convinced her to keep Ell around as a reminder that she really did own me, and that I didn’t belong to anyone but her. To torment me.”

Laura felt like a fool. Since she’d first met Carmilla, she’d not stopped talking of how love was the greatest thing on earth and how everyone should want love, when Carmilla had _been_ in love and it had broken her completely.

“Are you plotting your escape from this place already, darling? You look like you’re about to combust over there…” Carmilla sounded like she was joking but when Laura looked up she couldn’t ignore the vulnerability in the brunette’s expression. Laura could see that she was terrified.

“Carm, what you went through, what she did. It- love isn’t always like that, sometimes it lasts and sometimes it doesn’t. Not everybody leaves.”

Carmilla swallowed. “Will you? Will you leave me?”

Before Laura could think on the true weight behind that question, she found herself shaking her head and moving toward Carmilla, cupping her face in her hands.

“No. I won’t. If I leave you’re coming with me.”

Laura watched as Carmilla let the tears that she’d been holding back fall.

“Carmilla, this isn’t everything you are, okay? You’re more than what happened and you’re more than all of this. You _deserve_ more than all of this.”

It was Carmilla’s turn to shake her head. Laura expected words to follow but they didn’t. She just watched as Carmilla took a step back from her and started taking off her waistcoat. And then she was unbuttoning her white shirt, slowly and carefully. The room was completely silent except for quiet, uneven breathing. Carmilla’s cheeks were still wet with tears and all Laura wanted to do was hold her and kiss them away, but she can see the vulnerability in the brunette’s eyes and her shaking hands. She knew that she needed to let Carmilla set the pace for this.

Despite the slowness of Carmilla’s movements, Laura seemed to only blink once and then the brunette was standing naked in front of her. She was trembling and fragile, but naked and beautiful. The smaller woman stepped forward carefully and placed both her hands on Carmilla’s waist, softly, as though she were trying to balance an object to stop it from falling.

Laura was caressing the skin of Carmilla’s stomach with her thumbs when she felt something that made her look down. Her stomach dropped. The dim light of the candles in Laura’s apartment had done well to mask the scars from where she’d previously stood, but here up close nothing was hidden. Carmilla had scars all over her stomach, long and short and if that weren’t sickening enough there were bruises that could only have appeared recently.

Laura’s now tear filled eyes snapped up to meet Carmilla’s, who opened her mouth to probably explain the scars or apologise for them, but didn’t manage either as Laura’s lips gently reached hers. The lips then moved down to Carmilla’s neck, then to her chest, then finally to her stomach just above her belly button and on top of one of the most prominent scars. Laura kept her lips there for a time before she felt Carmilla’s hands come to either side of her head, lightly pulling her back up so their lips could meet again.

That interaction seemed to restore some of Carmilla’s confidence. She pulled back from Laura and her trademark smirk had found its way back to her beautiful face.   
  
“Lets get you out of those clothes, cutie.”


	5. The Greatest Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Star gazing. But inside. With no stars. So not really.

Carmilla had been with many people in her life. It had been her job, a huge part of her life for such a long time. Although that had stopped when the Dean had come into her life, the sex hadn’t. The Dean had been demanding in that area and since the production had started she hadn’t been left alone with her once, so needless to say it was a welcome break. One that Carmilla sensed Laura was partly responsible for.   
  
Carmilla knew sex. She was confident in it, she knew how to please people and give them what they wanted. Ell had taught her how. So she was confused as to why, when a naked and extremely beautiful Laura Hollis stood before her lit by nothing but the delicate glow of candlelight, she was nervous. She couldn’t get her breathing back to steady and it felt as though every part of her was shaking. The seductress that the people of the Moulin Rouge knew her as apparently did not exist in the confines of this tiny apartment.  
  
Movement from the small writer brought her back down to earth. A now naked Laura climbed onto the bed where Carmilla was lay and moved to straddle the courtesan. Both women gasped at the feeling of skin on skin.   
  
Laura placed her hands on Carmilla’s stomach, caressing the scars and bruises that lived there, and the moment was so tender and so magical that Carmilla wondered whether they’d of disappeared when the blonde removed her hands, as if this woman was so pure that her touch alone could erase the darkest parts of her life.

Carmilla then watched as Laura leant forward until her upper body was laid on top of her own and then closed her eyes as kisses began to be peppered all over her neck. She moved her own hands to Laura’s hips and then slowly dragged her fingers up her side and stopped them hesitantly just above her waist.  
  
“Carmilla?” Laura said in between now open mouthed kisses to brunettes neck.  
  
“Mmm?” Was all she could manage in response, words didn’t seem possible in that moment.

“Stop,” Nip. Lick. Kiss “Thinking.” Nip. Lick. Kiss.   
  
Carmilla almost laughed at this, because considering she couldn’t even use words at this point she could hardly see how thinking too much was a possibility right now. However she also knew that if it had been anyone but Laura doing that to her neck right now, she probably wouldn’t be being so hesitant, so the writer had a point.   
  
The writer had also stopped the assault on her neck, an action that made Carmilla open her eyes and put a frown on her face. Laura was looking at her, not necessarily concerned or annoyed, but she was definitely regarding Carmilla in some way.   
  
“Are you alright?” She asked, reaching up to Carmilla’s head and stroking her hands softly through her hair.   
  
“I’m with you, so yes.”   
  
“Really? Because you seem…”  
  
“Nervous?”  
  
“I was going to say ‘not interested’ but nervous is definitely better.”

“You’re lying naked on top of me, I find that _very_ interesting.”

Laura seemed to let out a minutes worth of breath at that. Carmilla noticed her whole body relax on top of her own and internally scolded herself for making the smaller woman worry.

“I’m sorry for worrying I just, I know how much better you probably are at this than me and I guess I don’t want to, well, bore you or disappoint y-” Carmilla cut Laura off by placing a long finger to her lips.

“Listen to me, I want you. I want this, just as much as you want it. That’s the reason I’m so nervous. My job is to fake those kinds of feelings. I’m good at that.” Carmilla watched as Laura’s brow furrowed and she pulled away at Carmilla’s words. She pulled her back. “Don’t do that. Listen to what I’m saying, sweetheart. I’m not used to truly feeling anything, for anyone, but I do with you, and that frightens the hell out of me.”

Laura scrunched her face up in attempt not to smile, and nodded once in understanding. “Sooo, I make you nervous huh?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, I still plan on taking the lead tonight.” She expertly flipped Laura from where she sat on top of her to underneath her, a smirk creeping “You’re all mine, Laura Hollis.”

“Always.”

Carmilla’s smirk left her face quickly as she noted the seriousness in Laura’s voice. She kissed Laura deeply and slowly, framing her arms around Laura’s head almost protectively, enclosing them both in a bubble that was just theirs, and keeping them safe and together. After a moment of Eskimo kisses and real kisses, Carmilla began kissing down Laura’s body, rubbing her nipples as she did so. Settling herself between the blonde’s legs, she dragged her teeth along her hipbone, and then kissed the spot tenderly afterwards. She felt one of Laura’s hands grasp her hair, attempting to push Carmilla further down to where she clearly needed her to be. Carmilla relented at this, and threw both of Laura’s legs over her shoulder and held them in place there. She looked up at Laura, who was biting her lip and staring intently back at the brunette. Carmilla kept eye contact as she slowly licked up Laura’s heat, wanting to see the reaction it got. Laura was the one to look away as she threw her head back and thrust her hips forward. The sight made Carmilla throb and, not wanting the moment to end she licked up the length of Laura’s folds with a little more pressure this time, then stopped again. The smaller woman writhed yet again and moaned loudly in frustration.

“Carmilla. I need-“

The courtesan didn’t need to hear the rest. She reconnected her tongue with Laura’s now very wet folds and this time kept it there, licking up and down, sucking on her clit and teasing it around her entrance. Carmilla tightened her hold on Laura’s thighs, pulling her as close as possible while Laura’s hips bucked against her, and she continued running her tongue over her clit repeatedly. The more Carmilla sucked the more she could feel Laura pulse under her and she didn’t want that feeling to go away, but she could feel that her lover was getting close.

She opened her eyes to look up at Laura, who’d been gasping out her name recurrently for the past few minutes. The blonde had one hand clutching onto the white bed sheets and the other on her own breast. Carmilla released her grip on one of Laura’s thighs and stopped her motions to reach for Laura’s hand on the bed. Laura, slightly frustrated at the halt in Carmilla’s tongue movement, looked to the brunette as she took the outstretched hand. The two women regarded each other for a split second before Carmilla proceeds. Laura’s originally loud moans became barely audible as she came against Carmilla’s mouth, she revelled at the sound and carried on licking as Laura slowly came down.

She felt Laura tugging at their intertwined hands so she released her other thigh and crawled up her panting body to kiss her on the lips. Laura put her arms around Carmilla’s shoulders and tucked her face into the crook of her neck.

Carmilla just stayed there, listening to Laura’s breathes and enjoying the closeness they were sharing. She wasn’t sure how long they lay there but it must have been a while, because Carmilla felt the arms around her neck become heavy and Laura’s breathing come louder, to almost a snore. She pulled back so she could look at the smaller woman and smiled at the beautiful, sleeping woman lay beneath her. Carefully, Carmilla got up from the bed and covered Laura with the bed sheets before throwing a shirt on herself. She turned round to face the previously forgotten apartment, which Carmilla decided to explore further. The first thing she noticed was Laura’s typewriter; a black, used Remington 9. She ran her fingers over the keys. She noticed a black, leather bound book that was almost bursting at the seams. She glanced back to Laura’s sleeping form on the bed and then opened the book. Flicking through, Carmilla could see Laura’s writings, ranging from articles to poems to even a few short stories she could see. Romance stories, of course, she expected nothing else. Not wanting to cross a line, she put them back without reading any; there was plenty of time for Laura to share them with her. She hoped.

Her eyes fell on a framed photo of a younger Laura. She was sat down on a stool, and stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder was a quite elderly man. Tall, bearded and with a stern face. Carmilla wouldn’t be able to pair him with Laura if it weren’t for his eyes. Laura definitely had his eyes, so Carmilla assumed it was her father. Where was he now? She looked again at the Laura in the photograph; she was smiling just the way Carmilla loved her to smile, bright and genuine. It was the greatest thing.

“Carm?”

Carmilla jumped and turned toward the voice, she couldn’t help the small smile that reached her face when she looked over to Laura, sat up, rubbing her eyes and a confused look on her face.  
  
“Over here, cupcake.”

“What are you doing all the way over there?”

Carmilla started walking back over to the bed, a fake pout on her face.

“Well, _somebody_ fell asleep, so I figured I’d amuse myself.”

“I’d apologise, but in this case I think the fault is yours for tiring me out.”

“Hmm, I see your point. Maybe I should leave and let you get some rest?” Carmilla, who’d reached the bed, started to leave but two hands grabbed her round the waist and she found herself being pulled into Laura’s arms. Both women were laughing as Carmilla settled herself so that her back was against Laura’s front.

“You can tire me out anytime you wish, Carmilla Karnstein.”  
  
“Oh I intend to. Goodnight, beautiful.”

She felt the duvet being pulled over them and Laura’s arms tighten around her waist. She sighed at the feeling of the blonde’s face nuzzled into the back of her neck. They fell asleep like that.  



	6. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very jealous Laura Hollis. A damning realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have stolen a 'WayHaught' moment and given it to Hollstein in this chapter! Go find it!
> 
> Sorry for the massive gap in between updates, life happens and I struggle to find the time to write! I hope this long chapter makes up for it. 
> 
> Thank you to the people who leave Kudos and Comments, I do really appreciate them!

Laura and Carmilla lay in bed together early the next morning. Since Carmilla had re-joined her in the bed the previous night, Laura hadn’t let go of her. Last night was perfect, and she kept telling Carmilla as much. There was just one thing niggling at the back of Laura’s mind.

“What are we going to do about The Dean, about Will, about everything?” Laura didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help herself from just blurting it out.

Carmilla just looked up lazily from her place on Laura’s chest.

“Cupcake, can we talk about this later? It kind of ruins the mood…”

“What, you mean this incredibly _lazy_ mood you’ve found yourself in? Had I known about your cat-like qualities I probably wouldn’t have liked you so much.”

“Ah but you didn’t, so here we are.” Carmilla winked.

Laura rolled her eyes then smiled, looking dotingly at the other woman.

“Yeah, here we are.” The writer said quietly. It was more to herself than to Carmilla, who had noted the tone of Laura’s voice and was now nestling herself into the crook of her neck.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about any of it. I really don’t, Laura. I _do_ know that the only thing that scares me more than them is the thought of letting any of it come between us.”

Laura closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the top of Carmilla’s head and held them there, breathing her in.

“I won’t let that happen, Carm.”

“Neither will I,” It was silent between them for a few moments before Carmilla groaned. “Ugh, I just remembered what we have to do today!”

Laura frowned slightly, wondering what was on today’s schedule, then it hit her and her heart sank.  
  
“Dance rehearsals. Dance rehearsals with Ell. Fantastic.”

***

“No Mademoiselle, the hip movement is like this. Here, let me show you, follow mine.” Ell’s sickeningly sweet voice filled the sound of the theatre and Laura sighed loudly, again, as Ell stood behind Carmilla and pulled her hips to her own.

Laura had now spent the last two hours watching Ell paw her hands all over Carmilla’s body, unnecessarily and invasively, like every other person who had ever laid hands on her. Carmilla was being professional about it, clearly focused on learning the routine and listening to Laura and Ell’s feedback, but the writer couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed at her passiveness. In truth, they had made a lot of good headway in this session and had it not been for the groping, Laura would have been in quite a pleasant mood. However, there was now a big Ell shaped cloud hanging over her head.  
  
“Laura!” An incoming LaFontaine called from the back of the theatre. Grateful for the distraction, Laura smiled and walked up the aisle between the seats to meet them.

“Hi LaF, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well I just thought I’d come by and see how the dance rehearsals were going. I see they’re going well.” They glanced over at the two women rehearsing on stage then did a double take, eyes widening. “Ell’s very er, _hands on_ , isn’t she? But then again who wouldn’t be with Carmilla Karnstein as a dance partner huh?” LaF winked at Laura and gave her a nudge but the blonde’s eyes were fixed firmly on the stage.

Laura was furious and she knew it was written all over her face, but by this point she just didn’t care that LaF was watching her. Ell was now gyrating her hips against Carmilla’s and at the same time whispering into her ear. What exactly, Laura didn’t know, she didn’t care to know. It could have been feedback, lines, even quotes from the bible. It didn’t matter; it wouldn’t stop the bile rising in Laura’s throat.

“That. Is. It.” Balling her fists up and taking in a huge breath, Laura started towards the stage but was stopped by a horrified and confused LaFontaine.

“Laura! What the _hell_ are you doing? Why are you so-”

“Let go of me, LaFontaine!”

“Will you calm down? Please? I don’t even understand what the problem- oh.” LaF’s eyes widened and a knowing smile crept across their face. It seemed to bring Laura back down to earth.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything, _crushes-on-courtesans_ …”

Laura couldn’t get her mouth to work, her mind was telling her to deny it, but LaF was her friend, LaF was the reason she’d met Carmilla. She could trust them, right?

“Laura?” LaF was now clicking in front of the writers face.

“It-it’s not just a crush. We’re together. But you can’t tell anybody! Because of The Dean and Will and the show. But I love her, I really love her, and I think she feels the same way. And if Ell doesn’t take her hands off of her in the next five seconds I think I’ll explode. And why isn’t Carmilla doing anything about it? Is she enjoying it?”

“Whoa. Laura. Enough. It’s okay, I won’t say anything, I promise.” LaF sat down in the nearest aisle seat, visibly shocked at the news. “Okay, take a seat. We’re going to compose ourselves and then you’re going to tell me the whole story.”

***

Laura had spent the rest of that rehearsal with her back to Carmilla and Ell, refusing to look at them, and had just focused on telling LaF everything. They were understanding and happy for Laura, cautious of the danger it all brought, but happy. They managed to convince Laura that it’d probably be a lot easier for her and Carmilla to be together if Danny and Kirsch knew as well. Laura was dubious at first, but she couldn’t deny that it would make things simpler with much less sneaking around.

To prove their point, LaF said they would host a dinner at their place that night for the five of them, under the guise of extra rehearsals (they’d let Kirsch and Danny in on the situation beforehand to avoid the awkwardness). It made sense, and even if The Dean caught wind of it there was no way she’d venture into the bohemian part of the city, she struggled enough visiting the Moulin Rouge everyday. So Laura agreed, not before childishly telling LaF to invite Carmilla themself and also asking them to inform Carmilla that Laura was busy the rest of the afternoon and she would meet the courtesan at Lafontaine’s place. Laura knew it was probably the wrong reaction, seen as Carmilla hadn’t really done anything but her job, it was just that seeing Ell with her that way, knowing their history, made Laura’s blood boil and she needed the afternoon to calm herself down.

***

The writer stood outside a rundown apartment building, not much different from her own. LaF had said that their garret (aka a tiny attic room that posed as a living space) was quite a walk up a few flights of stairs, so she got started. On the way up she thought about how she felt about the night ahead. She was excited to spend time with her friends and not have to deceive anyone for the night, however her afternoon cooling period hadn’t really worked and even thinking about Carmilla made her internally sulk. The image of Ell manhandling every part of Carmilla she could reach was still fresh in her memory.

She reached the door and was about to knock before she heard laughter erupting from behind it. It was mainly Kirsch’s deep boom of a laugh but she could make out pretty much everyone’s. She let herself enjoy it for a moment before knocking; maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad.

“Hollis! Better late than never I suppose,” Danny opened the door and stepped aside with a wink, beckoning Laura inside.

“Hi Danny. Everyone,” She took in the group sat at the table and almost over looked the curly redhead sat next to Carmilla. “Perry? I mean, Perry! Good evening, how are you?”

Perry laughed off Laura’s obvious surprise at her presence. “Carmilla invited me dear, I’ve known for a while about the two of you. Don’t worry.” She said with the kindest smile. It put Laura at ease immediately and she smiled back. She glanced at Carmilla who was looking at her like she was the sun. Laura’s heart melted away, she knew Carmilla would be at least a little confused, maybe even hurt, at Laura just leaving earlier without saying goodbye (then again if she hadn’t been paying so much attention to Ell she might have noticed Laura’s annoyance). Laura internally scorned herself for the irrational thoughts; they weren’t fair to Carmilla or to herself.

“Earth to Laura. Ahem.” Kirsch’s voice brought her back to the room. “There’s a seat for you next to your lady.” He winked then sat down in between Danny and LaF, so Laura sat opposite with Carmilla in between herself and Perry.

As soon as she sat down Carmilla’s hand was on hers, hesitantly, but it was still there.

“Hey,”

Laura could hear the uncertainty in Carmilla’s greeting and shame washed through her. She should be better than this; they had bigger things to worry about than Ell. However, the shame didn’t overcome the sickening feeling in Laura’s stomach and the questions she’d been trying desperately to quash out all day. _What if Carmilla still wanted Ell,_ _or both of us?_ So she pulled her hand away from Carmilla’s, throwing her a half-hearted smile but moving her attention to LaF, and complimenting them on the spread they’d laid out.

Carmilla’s hands were now on the table on front of her, her whole body had tensed and her fists were clenched. One by one the whole table noticed the change in the atmosphere and Laura swallowed hard, willing the moment to pass.

“You alright there, Karnstein?” Danny asked, regarding Carmilla half with bemusement and half as though she were a ticking time bomb. Carmilla looked up and around the table, clearing her throat.

“Er, yes, sorry. I just, I think I need some air. LaFontaine do you mind if I go out onto the balcony for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course, don’t lean too hard on the railing though, I’m not entirely sure how stable it is. Actually - just don’t lean it at all.”

Laura watched as Carmilla rose slowly from her seat, insisting that everyone should start eating and she wouldn’t be long. The group helped themselves and delved into conversation about the latest cast gossip.

“I think I’m going to join our leading lady outside for a second, excuse me.” Kirsch announced and went to join Carmilla on the balcony, much to Laura’s annoyance, as she was about to do the same thing.

***

Kirsch and Carmilla had been out there for the best part of an hour and Laura’s patience was well and truly gone. She excused herself from the table and walked to the doorway of the balcony, Kirsch’s hushed voice made her pause.

“Look, I’m no expert on these things, but can you honestly say that you’re both able to give each other what you need?”

Laura cleared her throat and Kirsch stopped himself from going any further, spinning round and looking like a rabbit caught in headlights.

“Laura, I was just, er.”

“It’s okay Kirsch, but can I talk to Carm for a bit please?”

“Sure, yep, go ahead.” Kirsch hastily left the (clearly stolen) barstool and Laura took his place. Carmilla hadn’t even looked at her yet; her eyes were fixed on the stars.

Sat there, looking at the dark-haired girls beautiful profile, Laura decided she just need to be honest with her. She deserved that.

“I-I was jealous, and I’m sorry.” Carmilla slowly turned to look at Laura, her brows knitted together in confusion.

“What? What would you-?” Realization washed over Carmilla’s face and Laura smiled apologetically.

“Yes, I was jealous of you and Ell today. She had her hands all over you and I know you were just doing your job but she was really enjoying herself and you didn’t look like you _weren’t_ enjoying yourself and I know I shouldn’t have been upset with you but it just made me feel sick and all these questions popped into my head and-“

“-Laura, stop, _please_.” Carmilla left her barstool and moved to stand between Laura’s legs, so Laura was slightly higher than Carmilla. The writer sighed as the woman she loved wrapped her arms around her waist.

Laura brought her hands up to cup Carmilla’s cheeks and began stroking along her cheekbones softly with her thumbs. She focused on that to stop herself from rambling even more than she already had. It was Carmilla’s turn to speak.

“What if I told you, it’s always going to be you, forever?” Carmilla turned slightly to kiss one of the palms Laura had pressed against her cheek. “It’s always going to be you, Laura Hollis. I promise.”

Laura let the tears in her eyes fall, because if there was ever a sentence she needed to hear, it was that one.

“I’d say thank you, for just being you, _amazing_ you, when I’m being _stupid_ me.”

“I get how it could have looked, but the truth is I was just blocking her out, I didn’t want to do anything that would piss her off so I just thought, well, I just thought of you. I know that didn’t make it any easier for you to watch but I really thought you’d have known that I’m not interested in her. Or in anyone but you and-”

“I love you,” Laura blurted out through sobs, “I love you so much, Carmilla.”

Carmilla kissed her hard and deeply. “I love you too. Always.”

***

After the two had returned from the balcony and finally ate some of the food LaF had prepared, the group actually got to work on some lines. Laura was reading through some of Kirsch’s lines, fooling around and showing him and the rest of the group just how dramatically she wanted him to deliver them.

She came out from behind a curtain, hair dishevelled and an angry look on her face, trying her best to stay in character. She looked at the script and started to narrate the scene as the others looked on.

“ _’Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!_ ’ Said the penniless sitar player, throwing money at the courtesan’s feet and leaving the kingdom forever!” Laura recited and then made a move for the balcony, pretending to jump and earning a half-worried/half joking ‘NO’ from Carmilla. The others laughed at Carmilla’s attempt to hide her slight panic, including Laura, who took the brunette’s still outstretched hand and sat on her lap, nuzzling her playfully.

“Oh, but a life without love that’s terrible,” Carmilla said teasingly, repeating what Laura had told her when they’d first met. It wasn’t part of the script so it didn’t make sense to anyone else but Laura, who found the dumbfounded look on the group’s face hilarious.

She carried on with scene, but not taking her eyes from Carmilla, “Yes, but the sitar player’s magical sitar falls from the roof and says-“

“-Er, excuse me, that is my line, Laura, _my_ line, thank you.” LaF piped up, and after a nod and an eye roll from Laura, cleared their throat and continued, “Okay, so my character, the magical sitar, falls from the roof and shouts _‘The greatest thing, you’ll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved, in return.’_ ”

Even a small gasp from Perry couldn’t break the intensity of the look that Laura and Carmilla were sharing. Laura could hear the red-haired woman complimenting her on that line but she couldn’t bring herself to pay attention to anyone but Carmilla, who was looking at her with more admiration and love than the writer could have ever hoped to experience.

***

Laura was in love. Real love. She thought she’d understood it before, that her writings of it were accurate. She’d had a pretty good idea, yes, but she could never have known this feeling until it happened to her - until Carmilla Karnstein happened to her. Beautiful, talented, perfect Carmilla Karnstein.

Since they had spent that first night together, they’d spent most nights the same way; wrapped up in Laura’s sheets. Reading. Sleeping. Laughing. _Other things_. All of that was in between rehearsals of course, and _maybe_ sometimes during.

Laura looked over at Carmilla as they stood in one of these said ‘rehearsals’. The two of them had both managed to keep their hands off of each other for a whole scene, which was quite frankly, a record. Now, with Carmilla reciting her lines, the lines that Laura had written for her, she couldn’t help herself from staring and biting her lip absentmindedly.

It was only when she could no longer hear Carmilla’s voice that Laura realised she’d gone from blatantly staring at Carmilla to blatantly daydreaming about her. She blinked herself back to reality to find Carmilla smirking at her from behind her script, eyebrows quirked.

“Is being here with me physically not good enough for you, cutie? You have to fantasise about me instead?”  
  
Laura could feel the blush creeping up her neck. It wasn’t the situation that was embarrassing, it was the number of times Carmilla had caught her _in_ these situations. Laura decided to turn it to her own advantage. She mirrored the smirk on Carmilla’s face and ran her eyes up and down Carmilla’s body.

“I mean I am only a mere human.” She drawled out, whilst taking a few steps toward Carmilla.

“Not from where I’m standing.” Carmilla countered. “Maybe you should come over here and see for yourself.” Carmilla had barely finished her sentence before Laura had flung her arms around her neck, script still in hand.

Their lips met and Laura melted against the body she now seemed to crave constantly. She moaned as she felt Carmilla catch her lip between her teeth. Wow. In that moment Laura decided she no longer aspired to a career in writing, she would settle for spending the rest of her life being kissed by Carmilla.  
  
Laura’s epiphany was interrupted as she felt Carmilla pushing her away roughly, too roughly. Then the door to the room opened and in walked The Dean. Laura immediately pretended to be flicking through her script; waiting to combust and making sure her gaze didn’t meet The Dean’s. Being in The Dean’s presence was crushing enough without there being the possibility that she’d just walked in on them both kissing. Adrenaline was pumping through Laura and she could feel the blood rushing around inside her head. She could hear muffled conversation but nothing more due to her internal imploding.

Braving a look at Carmilla, Laura’s previous fear ebbed away and was replaced by something worse. Jealousy. She saw Carmilla looking at The Dean, who was talking animatedly about something and Carmilla seemed to be hanging onto her every word as if she were the only person in the world. Laura could almost feel herself becoming smaller and smaller. She clenched her jaw and kept her eyes trained to the ground, not wishing to be anywhere near this happy interaction. She couldn’t stop herself from listening anymore though.

“A picnic?” She heard Carmilla say.

“Yes, it’s a beautiful day and William says you’re due a break. Plus these extra rehearsals with Miss Hollis must be taking their toll and she isn’t even in the cast so how important can they be? Surely you can call it a day?” The Dean was doing that thing that Laura loathed, where she made something sound like an innocent suggestion, but to those who knew her true nature it was nothing less than an order.

“My dear Dean, while I understand your frustrations, I can assure you, these additional rehearsals are vital to understanding my character, and who knows my character better than Lau-Mademoiselle Hollis? I wish I could join you but there are simply too many lines to learn, and opening night is _so_ close.”  
  
Relief flooded through Laura’s body, Carmilla wouldn’t be anywhere near The Dean for another day.  
  
“Well if the young writer here can carry a blanket and a basket, I don’t see why you both can’t do it in my presence. Come along now, both of you.” With that, The Dean stalked out of the room. Carmilla and Laura exchanged a look and followed reluctantly.

A couple of hours later they were at a grassy hilltop. Small boulders were scattered around and there was a small pond covered in water lilies. The hilltop overlooked the city, and in the late evening light, it looked kind of beautiful. It was the perfect spot for two people in love. Or at least it would be, had it not currently been occupied by three people, two of whom seemed to be having the least romantic time possible.

Laura sat on a boulder in the shade, the now nearly empty picnic basket she’d carried up the hill at her feet. Carmilla had insisted on helping to carry it multiple times, to The Dean’s and also Laura’s annoyance. The Dean thought it out of character and Laura was just being stubborn.

She sat on the rock, arms crossed and her face bunched up into a scowl. She was watching The Dean, who was pointing something out to Carmilla in the pond, a hand placed on the courtesan’s waist, her lips brushing her ear as she spoke. Laura hated how good of an actress Carmilla was; she admired it but hated it, and hated herself for being so doubtful. She tried to tell herself it was false, that it was all an act to keep The Dean happy but when Carmilla was dipping her head and smiling shyly in response to the advances, Laura couldn’t stop the feeling of sickness in her stomach and the jealousy she felt.

Carmilla must have known how Laura would be feeling though, because every chance she got she was sending stolen glances and apologetic eyes to Laura. Laura knew she’d be torn between involving her and frustrating The Dean or ignoring her and keeping The Dean happy. Carmilla had obviously chosen the latter, which was fine. It was. Laura just didn’t want a front row seat.

The writer was pulled from her thoughts when she noticed Carmilla walking towards her. Dean-less. Alone. _Finally_. She looked past Carmilla for the other woman and saw her sitting in the shade under a tree, fanning herself with her hand.

When Carmilla reached Laura’s rock, she smiled hesitantly; clearly unsure at what mood Laura would be in.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Carmilla said lowly enough so that only Laura would hear.

“What can I do for you, _Mademoiselle?_ ” Sarcasm wasn’t usually Laura’s first line of defence when she was hurt or angry, but she had really had enough today. She ached to be in Carmilla’s arms, but here she couldn’t even _look_ at Carmilla the way she’d like to.

Reading Laura’s tone, a guilty look spread across Carmilla’s face. Laura felt her heart tug at the sight, feeling her own amount of guilt for making the courtesan feel bad. Again.

“Hey. What do you need?” Laura spoke softly this time. Carmilla seemed to ease up a little at the kindness.

“Lemonade. The Dean’s feeling rather tired now, and she’d like refreshment before we leave.”

Laura bent to get the jug but Carmilla’s hand on her own stopped her. Carmilla knelt so she was now slightly lower than Laura, taking her hand away but looking up at the blonde, eyes pleading and apologetic.

“Don’t. You don’t have to do that. You’re not my servant, Laura, or _hers_ for that matter. I’m sorry for today. Truly.”

Before Laura could reply, Carmilla had taken the lemonade and was returning to The Dean.

***

An hour after the lemonade exchange, Laura was back in her apartment, alone and exhausted. She’d hovered as long as she could when the three of them had made it back to Carmilla’s room. On the way back down the hill, The Dean’s good mood had noticeably faltered. Even toward Carmilla. It made Laura worried about leaving the two of them alone, and when The Dean had bluntly told Laura to leave and let Carmilla rest, it had taken every ounce of willpower the blonde could muster to not tell The Dean to do the same.

Laura moved to her apartment window and sat on the seat, looking over at the Moulin Rouge. She had given up on the idea of doing anything productive tonight. She couldn’t shake the images that today had left her with. Carmilla doting on The Dean, real or not real, was harder to watch than she’d of imagined, much harder than the dance rehearsal with Ell. As beautiful as love was, it had been able to create a dark force in Laura. The jealousy was crippling. It had her sat in apartment, tense, nauseous and irritated. She’d even considered going over to the Moulin Rouge to ask the doormen if they’d seen The Dean leaving. To ask _anyone_ if they’d seen The Dean leaving, but thankfully she hadn’t quite reached that level of irrational yet.

The jealousy made her hate herself. Didn’t it make her just as bad as The Dean? Had she sank to that level of possessiveness, of wanting to own Carmilla? She told herself no, that it wasn’t the same. People treating Carmilla like they owned her was the very thing that she was tired of. She’d had to sit and watch the likes of Ell and The Dean paw at the courtesan one too may times, and Carmilla deserved more than that, she was more than just an object to be grabbed at and toyed with. She was a whole person, a beautiful person who Laura loved with everything she had.

Carmilla was the person who she just wanted there, in her apartment, in her arms. How was that too much to ask? She looked at the stars and thought of her. Since meeting Carmilla, Laura had noticed how she would always seat herself at the window at night, and whenever she was quiet it was when she looking at the stars. Laura thought of the night they’d sat on Lafontaine’s balcony, and the promise that had been made to her underneath a starry sky. _Always_.

An hour later Laura was still sat there, now with a book in her hand and a thin blanket over her legs. She was glancing over at her apartment door every five minutes as if her gaze would make Carmilla magically appear.

It was nearing midnight when Laura gave up on her book. She remained at the window and leant her head back against the wall, returning her gaze to the stars. Eventually she stopped wishing for Carmilla and just willed for sleep to come.

***

Carmilla watched Laura leave: her least favourite sight in the world. She also wanted the safety of Laura’s presence: the protection and warmth. She hadn’t been alone with The Dean in such a long time, but now it seemed there was no escaping her clutches.

All Carmilla wanted to do was comfort Laura, she knew today would have been hard on her, and she hated being the cause of it. Whether or not Laura was accepting of the situation, she didn’t deserve to be in it. Especially not like today.

Carmilla’s eyes remained on the door, long after Laura had disappeared through it, while The Dean was already pouring them both drinks; her good mood seemed to be returning, slowly.

A hand on Carmilla’s waist spun her round to face the taller woman, who was holding out a glass of champagne for Carmilla to take.

“It’s so nice to finally have you alone. I’ve missed my star.” The Dean drawled out, stepping forward into Carmilla until they’re fronts were touching and her lips we grazing Carmilla’s cheek. Then kissing Carmilla’s cheek, then down to her neck. The dark haired girl clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, picturing Laura’s face and shutting The Dean out. Laura: her doe eyes, her mermaid hair, her.  
  
Her eyes opened again when she no longer felt The Dean’s lips on her. The Dean stood slightly back, a strange look on her face. As if she had just read Carmilla’s mind and could see right through her.  
  
“Sadly, I cannot stay with you tonight. I have some business to take care of out of town. However, I’ll be back for tomorrow night’s rehearsal.” She threw back the rest of her champagne and placed it on the table before walking over to Carmilla. She cupped her face in her hands, not roughly but not quite gently. _Not like Laura._

Her head dipped as she leaned into kiss Carmilla, but she hesitated and pulled back slightly, before just joining their forehead’s together.

“I’m so glad you’re mine, Carmilla. I’m going to make you a star.”

With that she left, and Carmilla let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Carmilla waited for almost an hour before changing into some more inconspicuous clothing to go over to Laura’s in. She figured The Dean would be long gone by now and the streets would be quieter at this time. She was itching to go to Laura as soon as she was alone but she was still wary of the looks she’d been given by The Dean throughout the day. It was as though The Dean didn’t know exactly what was going on, but she knew there was something, and that frightened Carmilla.

She was about to head for the door when Will burst through it, looking angrier than Carmilla could ever remember seeing him.

“Going somewhere, _Kitty_?”

“William. I-I was just going out for a walk. Need to clear my head.”

“Oh so you do still have a head to clear? Because I’ve been under the impression that you’ve lost your mind.” There wasn’t the usual sarcasm in Will’s voice; it was just anger and frustration. “I’ve just bumped into our dear Dean and we had a very long conversation about you.”

“Will-“  
  
“Do. Not. Interrupt. Me” Will spoke through gritted teeth. “ _’Carmilla’s affections are waning. I know she loves her work but she’s always at it with that damn writer.’_ ”

Will mimicked The Dean as he relayed to Carmilla the conversation he’d had with her. His anger seemed to be fading and he was just becoming more desperate, he was almost pleading with Carmilla.  
  
“I mean have you gone mad? The Dean holds the deeds to the Moulin Rouge. She wants to make you a star. She’s buying you a beautiful new dressing room. Yet here you are, dallying with the writer, off to spend the night with her.”

Carmilla was becoming breathless. She tried to remain calm and lightly laugh it off.

“Will, it’s nothing. It’s just-just an infatuation.” She could barely get the words out and was avoiding Will’s eyes. He started to move closer towards Carmilla.

“The infatuation _will_ end.” He said slow and deeply. A warning. “Go to Laura in the morning, tell her it’s over. Tell her it’s done. The Dean is expecting you in the tower tomorrow night, after rehearsal. And you _will_ sleep with her on opening night.”

Carmilla willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. She swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Don’t look so hurt, Carmilla. You treated The Dean like an imbecile, and she was ready to leave. The promises I made tonight are ones I had to make because of your actions. I cannot believe you’re doing this again. Except this time, you’re not just endangering an Ell, or a Laura; you’re putting _everyone_ at risk. I won’t have it. Tonight, you will not leave this room. I’ll have Perry come keep you company.”

He turned and left, but not before he reminded her of what she had to do in the morning.

Carmilla broke down, sobs tearing through her body. She doubled over, clutching her stomach. _Breathe, Carmilla, breathe._ It was no use. She couldn’t think of Laura to calm her as she normally would, because that just hurt more. She fell to her knees, hopeless and alone, until Perry walked through the door and enfolded Carmilla in her arms. Telling her to breathe.

Carmilla started to hum a slow, broken tune in between sobs and there, in Perry’s embrace, she thought up words for how she was feeling. She imagined it was Laura’s arms around her.

 _If I should die_  
This very moment  
I wouldn’t fear  
For I’ve never known completeness  
Like being here  
Wrapped in the warmth of you  
Loving every breath

***

The writer had waited all night at the window. Drifting in and out of sleep. She woke up to the sound of the apartment door closing. Laura shot upright and looked over to see Carmilla standing there. Her whole body tensed when she took on the sight of the courtesan. She was paler than she’d ever seen her. No makeup, hair curly and tangled. She definitely hadn’t slept. She was wearing an oversized white shirt and black slacks. Laura couldn’t stop her mind from running into overdrive. Part of her was worried for Carmilla, of course. The other part of her was reminded that Carmilla had probably spent the last twelve hours with The Dean, and for the first time, she truly felt the cold stab of jealousy. It rose from the pit of her stomach right up to her head. It paralysed her where she sat. All the other times she thought she’d been jealous were nothing in comparison to this. Her blood ran white hot through her veins; it was almost painful.  
  
Carmilla steeled herself for a second, before giving Laura a half-smile and moving to lie back on the bed on the opposite side of the room, speaking as she did so.

“I’m sorry about last night, shortly after you and The Dean left I started to feel quite ill.” Carmilla’s false nonchalance brought Laura out of her frozen state. She shook her head, brow furrowed. Surely she should be the one being distant right now, not Carmilla? She decided to just play along regardless.

“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” Laura asked as she stood from the window seat. When she received a no from the raven-haired woman, instead of joining her on the bed she walked over to her typewriter and sat down. She could feel Carmilla’s gaze on her as she ran a hand through her hair and let out a heavy sigh. Laura stared at the keys of her typewriter, hoping inspiration would come, and that inspiration would then distract her from reality. The reality that was sat on her bed, now reading a book from Laura’s recommendation pile, acting as though nothing was wrong.

Laura typed; and typed. Then typed some more. She didn’t make a plan beforehand; she just wrote her feelings and relayed the words floating round in her head onto the paper. If she could get them all out, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much. She wrote until one of the three pillar candles she had on her desk began to smoke, as the flame slowly died. Sitting back in her chair and cracking her fingers, she looked over at Carmilla for the first time in what seemed like forever. The courtesan had been so quiet and had demanded no attention from Laura whatsoever.

Carmilla was asleep. She’d positioned herself so that she was sat against the headboard, with a pillow placed behind her head. The book she’d been reading was placed back on the bedside table, and her head was tilted in a way that had her eyes been open, she’d be looking straight at Laura. Laura’s heart tugged at the thought that had Carmilla had fallen asleep watching her write. She walked over and sat by Carmilla on the edge of the bed, gently tucking a stray hair behind her ear. The contact woke the sleeping woman and she smiled softly as she opened her eyes. Then Laura watched as that soft smile she loved disappeared and was replaced by a frown. She watched as Carmilla’s reality caught up with her and the peacefulness of sleep faded.

“I’m exhausted, Laura.” Carmilla said quietly, but loudly enough to break the silence between them. She turned her head away from the writer, exposing her jawline and neck.

Pushing away the hair covering Carmilla’s neck, Laura leaned in so that her lips were by the courtesan’s ear.

“I know, baby.” She whispered, and then kissed the spot behind Carmilla’s ear, allowing her lips to linger there for just a second before pulling back. Carmilla slowly turned her head back toward Laura, her eyes had been closed and when she reopened them there were tears forming. She looked broken.

Laura decided she wouldn’t do it anymore; she wouldn’t let the both of them be in pain and not talk about it.

“Where were you last night?” She spoke as softly as she could.

“I told you, I was sick…” Carmilla gave a weak and unconvincing smile.

Laura took her hand and interlocked their fingers.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

Carmilla closed her eyes. She took her hand from Laura’s and stood from the bed. She walked over to a window and looked out of it. She hugged herself and tried to blink the tears in her eyes back.

“We have to end it.”

Laura stood from the bed. “What?”

“William knows. Everyone knows. Sooner or later The Dean will find out.” Carmilla said matter-of-factly, not bothering to turn away from the window. A silence grew between them as Laura stood there in shock, not knowing what to say.

Carmilla finally turned to look at Laura, swallowing hard.

Laura didn’t want to hear whatever was coming next.  
  
“On opening night I have to sleep with The Dean…and the jealousy will drive you mad.”

Carmilla turned around; probably not wanting to see the pain she was causing Laura and at the same time not wanting to show her own feelings.

Laura walked over to her desk, trying her hardest not to let what she’d just heard eat away at her. She couldn’t lose this. She couldn’t lose Carmilla. There had to be something she could say to convince her that this didn’t have to end. She knew the risks of their relationship, she knew that from that first night she met Carmilla, but she was worth it. She was worth everything.

She desperately needed to express this to Carmilla, but how?

Suddenly it hit her.

At the same moment Carmilla started walking towards her and whispered her name softly, apologetically.

“I’ll write a song.” Laura pleaded, cutting Carmilla off. “We’ll put it in the show and whatever happens…”

Carmilla was already shaking her head at Laura’s words but it didn’t deter her, she reached out for Carmilla, trying to pull her close.

“When you hear it or sing it or hum it…” Laura continued with her lips against Carmilla’s temple. “It’ll mean that we love one another…I-I won’t get jealous.” Tears were forming in both of the women’s eyes now.

Laura pulled back slightly as she felt Carmilla shaking her head again, walking back to a window.

“Things don’t work that way, Laura. We have to end it.” It was unconvincing, and it seemed as though the courtesan wasn’t event trying to make it sound believable. Carmilla’s heart clearly wasn’t in what she was saying; this wasn’t what she wanted and it was written all over her face.

Laura wasn’t going to give up on her, on them. She walked over to a different window to the one Carmilla was stood at and stepped out onto the small balcony, allowing the cool morning air to wash over her. Carmilla followed suit and stepped out from her window, leaning against the frame to watch Laura who, knowing she had her lover’s attention, started to sing.

_Never knew, I could_

_Feel, like this_

_Like I’ve never seen the sky, before_

Laura glanced over to Carmilla, who wasn’t even fighting the small smile on her face or the way her whole body was relaxing. Laura knew straight away that every word was capturing Carmilla’s heart, as they always had.

Filled with a newfound confidence, Laura walked over to Carmilla and pressed their foreheads together. She continued to sing.

_Want to vanish, inside your kiss_

_Everyday, I’m loving you more and more_

Carmilla was crying now, allowing the tears to fall freely down her face. She leaned her head into Laura’s chest and Laura wrapped her arms around her, silently vowing to never let go.

***

“Now, er, this new scene is the scene where the, er, sitar player writes a secret song for the courtesan so that whatever is happening, however bad things are, th-they remember their love, and, um - We could take it from your line, Carmilla. So let's take it...” Laura didn’t bother to finish her sentence, as Carmilla and Kirsch seemed to read her mind anyway.  
  
Laura sat in front of the stage, amidst maybe half of the cast and also William and The Dean. It was a run through of a new and final scene, and with opening night drawing closer it was almost nonstop rehearsing. All eyes were on the two actors on the stage.

 

“We must be careful.”

 

“Fear not. We will conduct our love affair right under the maharajah.”

 

The writer looked on in awe as Carmilla and Kirsch became completely immersed in the scene. Carmilla truly was a star and Laura was so in love with her. It was frightening, the whole situation was, but since writing their song she’d felt hopeful and sure of their love, and she knew it’d had the same effect on Carmilla as well.  


Laura allowed herself to get lost in the memory of the day she’d almost lost Carmilla, but had won her back with a song.

 

***  


_They sat on the windowsill, wrapped up from the waist down in white bed sheets, their upper bodies exposed and pressed against each other, holding each other._  
  
Carmilla leaned down and kissed Laura’s bare shoulder, leaving her lips there.  
  
“Okay cupcake, tell me the second verse again…”  
  
Laura smiled at Carmilla’s eagerness to learn their song, and complied.

Seasons may change…

 

…Winter to Spring…  


…But I love you, until the end, of time…

  
_Carmilla nodded. “And the first chorus?”_  
  
Come What May

Come What May

I will love you, until my dying day

_“Okay, I think I’ve got it all now. It’s beautiful Laura.”_

_“You’re beautiful.” Laura tucked a stray hair behind Carmilla’s ear, and felt her heart tug at the sight of Carmilla’s blush. The dark haired girl wrapped her arms around Laura’s waist and nuzzled herself into the crook of Laura’s neck._

_“Will you sing me my favourite part again please?”_

_Laura could almost hear the courtesan’s pout. “Seriously Carm? Again?”_

_Carmilla just nodded, and well, how could Laura ever say no to her?_

Suddenly the world, seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves, with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn’t seem, such a waste

It all revolves, around you

***

Laura was dragged from the memory at the sound of an annoying, fake and shrill laugh echoing round the rehearsal room. She didn’t even have to look over to it to see whom it belonged to, but she did regardless.

She saw Ell stood by a sitting Dean, leaning down to speak to her. Anyone would of thought the two were trying to have a private conversation, had Ell not been speaking so loud. She seemed to have caught the attention of a lot of the cast. Laura was confused, since when did Ell go anywhere near The Dean?

“This ending is silly!” Laura watched her say to The Dean. “Why would the courtesan go for the penniless writer? OOPS. I mean _sitar player_!” Ell chuckled and walked away, obviously content with the fact that her intended seed had been well and truly planted in The Dean’s mind. Laura’s whole body tensed as she waited for The Dean’s reaction. It never came. The Dean just sat there; still and silent, appearing to continue watching Carmilla and Kirsch act out the play ending.

Maybe Ell’s plan didn’t work. Laura eventually averted her attention back to the actors in front of her. Soon enough she was back to directing them.

“Okay so LaF, this is your part. The magical sitar player falls from the roof and says, "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."” Laura instructed LaF, whilst looking over at Carmilla as she spoke and smiled. Carmilla smiled back, and the two had a moment.

“I don’t like this ending.”

Every single head in the room snapped to where The Dean was now stood, arms crossed with a furious look on her face. Ell’s plan had definitely worked. Laura could tell, just from the look on The Dean’s face, that she was now all too aware of the metaphor the play held for Laura and Carmilla’s relationship.

_The Dean had finally realised._


	7. When Dreaming Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreaking choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Violence and some non-consensual kissing/touching. Nothing too explicit but just a warning!
> 
> As always, thanks for your kudos and comments.

“Don’t like the ending, my dear Dean?” Will said from his place on stage. He’d had to ‘offer’ to play the part of the maharajah after the Dean had fired the previous actor on the spot for being too hands on with Carmilla.

The Dean looked at him as though he were an idiot for even asking the question.

“Why would the courtesan choose a penniless sitar player over the maharajah, who is offering a lifetime of security? THAT’s real love.”

Carmilla glanced over at Laura, who was looking at the Dean with intense dislike, as she carried on with her point.

“Once the sitar player has satisfied his lust, he will leave the courtesan with nothing.”

Carmilla felt her stomach churn at the comment, the thought of Laura leaving her, the thought of what her and Laura had turning out to be nothing more than lust, almost knocked her to the floor. Laura’s sneer had now changed to a look of complete offense, as if she wanted to say ‘That’s such a lie’.

Not so oblivious to Laura’s building rage, The Dean continued.

“I suggest that in the end the courtesan choose the maharajah.”

Carmilla’s heart sank when she heard what she knew was coming, and she braced herself for Laura’s objections – however; LaFontaine beat her to it and nervously stepped forward.

“B-but, sorry, but that ending does not uphold the bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom-“

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR RIDICULOUS DOGMA! Why shouldn’t the courtesan choose the maharajah?!” The Dean was livid now, her usual composed façade gone.

“BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T LOVE YOU!” The room went deadly quiet as the words burst from Laura’s mouth. Carmilla was frozen, looking at the writer. Laura was red in the face from anger, but she seemed to come out of it quite quickly as she realised what she’d said. “H-him. H-him. Sh-she doesn’t love h- She doesn’t love him.”

The Dean’s gaze turned to Carmilla, who eyed her cautiously.

“Oh, I see.” She looked back at Laura, then to Will. “Monsieur Luce, this ending will be rewritten…with the courtesan choosing the maharajah…and _without_ the lovers’ secret song.” The Dean spoke the last part while looking at Laura. “It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night.”

“M-my dear Dean, th-that’ll be quite impossible.” Will started, but Carmilla decided it was time to intervene, Will couldn’t worm his way out of this one – it was up to her to cover it up.

Putting on her softest voice, she began walking down the steps of the stage toward the Dean, eternally thankful for the fact that this was a dress rehearsal and she was in costume. She looked amazing. It would work in her favour.

“William! The poor Dean is being treated appallingly.” She passed Laura, and could feel despairing eyes on her, but didn’t dare look anywhere but at the Dean. “These silly writers let their imaginations run away with them. Now, why don’t you and I have a little supper, and then afterwards we can let Monsieur Luce know how we would prefer the story to end.”

The Dean exhaled and a small smile reached her face as Carmilla ran her index finger across her chest and began to circle around her back. Carmilla paused for a moment from behind the Dean to steal a glance at Laura, who was looking down at her script, which, if Carmilla had saw correctly, now had holes where Laura’s fingers had punched through them.

***

Carmilla had let the Dean walk her to her dressing room after the ordeal. After she’d left to prepare for the supper, Carmilla had called for Perry to help her get ready. She was half relieved and half disappointed that Laura hadn’t come to see her yet, but ultimately she knew that Laura was in more danger now than ever and it wasn’t safe for them to be seen together.

Carmilla had told Perry to go all out with her attire. She wore a black, strapless dress with black elbow-length gloves to match. Her hair was curled but up in a bun. Her face powdered even paler than usual which brought out her striking red lipstick and black eye makeup. Her back and neck were deliciously exposed, and Carmilla couldn’t help but wish it were Laura she was doing this for. The thought of anyone else touching her now made her whole body shiver, but not in a good way.

Carmilla walked out of her dressing room, desperate not think of Laura, of the night ahead, of anything. She was so lost in herself she didn’t notice the small writer stood in a dark corner opposite her dressing room until she’d stepped out in front of her, making Carmilla jump slightly.

“I don’t want you to sleep with her.” Laura said in a small voice, almost child-like. Her eyes were red and glistening with tears.

“She could destroy everything. It’s for us, Laura.” Carmilla tried, still breathless from the slight scare and the fear that this all was instilling in her.

Laura was just shaking her head, her face pained, pleading.

Carmilla removed one of her gloves and placed a hand to Laura’s cheek, pulling their foreheads together at the same time. “You promised, baby.” She whispered. “You promised me you wouldn’t be jealous. It will be alright.”

Laura just shook her head harder and choked back a sob.

“Yes, it will, Laura. Sh-she’s waiting.”

Carmilla made to leave but Laura put soft hands on her waist.

“No. No. Please don’t.”

 _Come what may._ Carmilla sang quietly and slowly, willing herself not to cry. She leaned in and rubbed her cheek against Laura’s tear-soaked one, while singing into her ear. _Come what may._

She moved back and Laura looked up at her, taking in a deep breath. _Come what may._

Carmilla watched as the writer attempted a small smile and walked away.

_It was her least favourite sight in the world._

***

Most of the cast and crew were already sat in the rehearsal hall when Laura got there. She searched the room for a familiar face and found LaFontaine and Kirsch sat at a table, looking as exhausted as everyone else in the room.

Laura sat down at the table and could feel all eyes on her. Judging, angry and questioning eyes, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t get Carmilla out of her mind.

She had gone to the tower to save everyone; the cast, crew, Laura herself - and for their part, all they could do was wait.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor and a familiar laugh made the hairs on the back of Laura’s neck stand. She looked up to see a cackling Ell stumbling towards her, followed by the Argentinean actor who The Dean had made Laura fire from the part of the maharajah. Before she knew it, Ell was sat on her lap.

“Don’t worry my little Shakespeare. You’ll get your ending, once the Dean gets _her_ ending; her very _happy_ ending.” Ell’s smug and suggesting tone was too much for Laura, so she shoved Ell off of her as hard as she could.

The tall Argentinean man caught her and held her back as she tried to lunge at Laura. “You keep your hands off of me!”

The writer calmly got up and walked away from the table, making to leave. She could hear the Argentinean calming Ell down and then footsteps coming up behind her. The Argentinean’s now loud, gruff voice made her stop.

“Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. It always ends BAD!” He shouted at Laura’s back.

She turned round as the Argentinean walked down a set of steps to a small dance floor in the centre of the room. All eyes were now on him, which was clearly what he wanted.

“We have a dance, in the brothels of Buenos Aires...” He walked along the floor, as Laura began slowly walking on the level above him, still watching. “It tells the story of a prostitute…”

Suddenly a spotlight shone on Ell, who was standing on the stairs. There were gasps and laughs around the room and Laura’s blood boiled. Ell walked down the stairs to join the Argentinean, giggling.

“…And a man who falls in love with her.” The Argentinean and Ell moved closer, getting ready to Tango dance. “First there is desire. Then passion. Then suspicion.”

Someone had apparently begun playing music for the two of them, and a shrill violin sound went right through Laura, chilling her to the bone.

“Where love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love! Jealousy. Yes, jealousy will drive you mad.” Laura’s rage grew as the words rang in her in ears. It was painful. She couldn’t breathe.

Then an arm covered her shoulders and was dragging her outside. She could recognise Kirsch’s voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. She couldn’t think of anything but the Argentinian’s cutting truths, of Carmilla up in that tower.

The Dean’s eyes on her face, her hand upon Carmilla’s hand, her lips caressing her skin. It was more than she could cope with. She couldn’t fight it: the pain and the doubt.

Carmilla was free to leave her, Laura would never force her to stay against her will, but she just didn’t want to be deceived, to be lied to. But Carmilla loved her. Didn’t she?

The cold air hit her face and she breathed it in. Laura could feel the drying tears on her face that she hadn’t even known were there. Kirsch was still there beside her, rubbing circles on her back, she was thankful but needed to leave, to be alone.

Bidding him goodnight and not bothering to listen to his reply she began walking home, swallowing hard at the realisation that her route would take her by the tower.

***

Carmilla walked into the room. She recognised the black polished floors and the matching walls. There was a long dining table filled with more food than she’d ever seen before, The Dean was seated at the end of, waiting for her.

A chill ran through her and she looked over to the tall windowed doors that led out onto a balcony. The doors were open and their white curtains were blowing in the wind.

In the far corner there was a king size bed with numerous throws and quilts lain on it. It made her think of Laura’s bed, with all of its’ patchwork blankets and odd-coloured pillows that didn’t match anything else in the room, but still all seemed to be in the perfect place. She forced that picture out of her mind and ignored the ache in her heart.

She put her on best fake smile and her eyes met the Dean’s.

“My dear Dean, I haven’t kept you waiting have I?”

“Surprisingly, no. As I’d expected you’d be consoling your pet before coming here.” She spat the word pet out as she sat back in her seat and crossed her legs. Her hands were placed on the arms of the chair and Carmilla held her gaze long enough to examine how she looked. It was different than usual. Not as harsh.

Her usual poker-straight black hair was down in subtle waves, which stopped just below her shoulders. She’d opted against her usual elegant, black attire and now wore a white button up shirt with grey slacks. She’d even rolled her sleeves up and undone her top button.

Her newfound casualness did nothing to douse Carmilla’s fear of her. Nothing could change the obvious hunger in those piercing blue eyes. Soft, hazel coloured doe eyes entered Carmilla’s mind and a lump formed in her throat. She cleared it and kept her head high, tonight was about saving Laura.

She took her gloves off slowly and let out a breathy laugh.

“The girl has a ridiculous obsession with me, that’s all. I mean I indulge her fantasy because she’s talented. We need her, but only until tomorrow night.”

The Dean, seemingly satisfied with that, beckoned Carmilla to take a seat next to her, so she did, and the Dean immediately moved her own chair closer to Carmilla’s.

The courtesan fought every instinct she had that was telling her to leave, to cringe away from the other woman’s touch. She knew she couldn’t.

So when The Dean leaned in to kiss her, she kissed her back.

When The Dean’s hands ran up her arms and along her neck and over her shoulders, she pretended to revel at the feeling.

Inside she was glad that the Dean wasn’t dragging it out and that she could tell herself it would be over soon. Until the taller woman pulled away and clicked her fingers, even the small action made Carmilla flinch.

The door to the room opened and a suited up waiter walked in carrying a small, black and velvet case. He handed it to The Dean and then left. Carmilla watched her carefully as she smiled at the case then stood, holding out a hand for the courtesan to take.

The Dean led her outside onto the balcony and Carmilla took in the view of the city. Lamps illuminated the streets below in a warm glow. The velvet case was placed in front of Carmilla on the thick stonewall of the terrace.

The taller woman placed a hand on the small of Carmilla’s back, standing beside her.

“When this production succeeds, you will no longer be a cancan dancer, but an actress. I will make you a star.” The Dean flicked open the case in front of Carmilla, revealing a stunning diamond necklace/choker. “Accept it as a gift from this maharajah to her courtesan.”

Carmilla gasped. “Oh, an-and the ending?”

“Let William keep his fairy tale ending.” The Dean whispered as she fastened the choker around Carmilla’s neck and then pressed her lips to the courtesan’s shoulder. Carmilla felt arms wrap around her waist from behind and pull her flush against the Dean’s front.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, unsure whether it was due to the choker or the situation. She tried to let the cold air calm her and ignore how much she repulsed being in the Dean’s arms.

She looked down at the Moulin Rouge, its neon signs glowing red beneath her. The balcony gave the perfect view of the entrance, so when Laura walked out of the doors and into the streetlights Carmilla couldn’t have missed her. Tears automatically filled her eyes and her heart began to thump. She watched Laura stop and look up at the tower. What was she thinking, seeing Carmilla in The Dean’s arms?

“ _Come what may. I will love you, till my dying day_.” Carmilla sang, it was barely audible but it was there. It was her truth. She loved Laura and would always love her. Could she really do this to someone she loved? “No.” Her answer was whispered aloud and to the Dean.

“No?” The Dean questioned, then followed Carmilla’s gaze to Laura, who was still stood watching.

Her heart broke a little more as she saw Laura start walking again, alone and undoubtedly hurt.

“Oh, I see. It’s our very own penniless sitar player.” The Dean took a step back.

Carmilla took this as a chance to leave the balcony; she reached the doorway but then turned round to face the other woman.

“My dear Dean-“

“Silence!” The Dean stepped up to Carmilla and grabbed her wrists firmly and pushed on them, making the courtesan kneel before her. “You. Made me believe. That you loved me.”

“No.” Carmilla shook her head as the Dean placed long fingers across the back of the choker. Suddenly it was snapped harshly from Carmilla’s neck and the diamonds fell to the floor, some shattering.

She scrambled on all fours through the doorway, the diamond shards cutting into her hands and knees. She managed to stand up and run around the long table. The Dean chased her and made to grab her but ended up catching the tablecloth and ripping it off the table, sending plates of untouched food flying everywhere.

She reached Carmilla eventually and threw her to the floor. Carmilla was shaking now as The Dean began circling her. She roughly pulled her hair from its bun and grabbed at Carmilla’s dress, fiercely tearing it off of her, leaving her in just her corset and stockings.

The Dean had lost all control. She too was visibly shaking, her pale face red with anger. She was looking at Carmilla with something that could almost be described as pain. She sat down behind the smaller woman and began kissing every inch of her she could, in apparent desperation.

In between kisses and gropes she would recite words from songs in the play, clearly mocking Laura and torturing Carmilla, who just sat there, passive and numb.

With each passing minute, the Dean became angrier and rougher. She stood and dragged Carmilla up with her, then threw her on to the bed. She started unbuttoning her shirt as Carmilla cried harder and silently. The Dean just watched with no compassion, with an evil glint in her eye.

She was so focused on Carmilla she didn’t notice the door to the room open and Kirsch running through it and straight at her. He shoved the Dean hard to the floor then moved to the bed to scoop Carmilla up into his arms.

***

Laura’s apartment was a mess. Furniture was knocked over; books and stray bits of paper covered the floor.

Only one candle had remained lit amongst the chaos, and now Laura was stood at a window in almost total darkness, gripping onto the frame until her knuckles were white, as if it were the only thing holding her up.

Her door burst open and Carmilla flew through. Laura’s heart stopped when she took in Carmilla’s appearance. Her hair was out of its bun, unkempt and knotted, her eye makeup was smudged and running from the tears falling down her face. Her dress no longer existed apparently and there were small red cuts on her arms.

Laura hadn’t known she was doing it, but at some point she’d opened her arms for Carmilla to fall into, and she had done, sobbing.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t go through with it. I saw you there and I-I felt differently, and I couldn’t pretend. And The Dean, she saw. She saw, and she-“ She let out another breathless sob. “Laura, I love you.”

Laura got a firm but gentle hold on Carmilla’s arms, “It’s okay” She soothed, trying to get Carmilla to look at her.

“I couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to live. She- and I don’t- she _knows_. She _knows_ , and she _saw_ you.”

Laura was crying now too. She tried to focus on Carmilla’s words but she’d noticed more and more red marks over Carmilla’s skin.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to pretend anymore, you don’t have to do this anymore. We’ll leave. We’ll leave tonight.”

At that Carmilla looked up through her tears. She had some of Laura’s shirt balled up tightly in her fist, refusing to let go, as if Laura was her lifeline.

“Leave? Wh-The show? Wh-“

Laura began shaking her head and whispered, “I don’t care about the show. I don’t care. We have each other, and that’s all that matters.”

Carmilla smiled that wide smile Laura loved, that Laura lived for. Then agreed, “As long as we have each other.” They kissed, a messy, desperate kiss. “We have each other.”

Laura turned to Kirsch who had been stood in the doorway awkwardly. She ran at him and jumped up to hug him. “I don’t know how you knew or why you did it, but thank you. Thank you so much for bringing her home to me.”

He released her and smiled, “I was worried, for both of you. I saw how much it was cutting you up so I watched you walk home. When you stopped at the tower I saw Carmilla up there, after you left I watched her walk away from The Dean, which she seemed pissed at and when I saw her grab Carmilla I just bolted straight for the tower.”

“Kirsch, that was so brave. Thank you. I hate to ask but,” Laura didn’t even need to finish her sentence. Kirsch was already picking up one of Laura’s coats and putting it over Carmilla.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anybody see us, Hollis.”

Laura hugged him again then looked at Carmilla. “Baby, go and pack, get what you need, I’ll wait for you.”

Carmilla threw her arms around Laura’s, holding her tightly. When she pulled back somewhat, Laura closed her eyes and pressed their foreheads together, before letting Kirsch pull Carmilla from her arms and take her away.

Laura hated the sight of it.

***

Carmilla rushed around her room, she’d told Kirsch to go to LaFontaine and Danny and tell them to go to Laura’s place. He’d been reluctant but agreed, to Carmilla’s relief; she didn’t want to put him in danger just before she was planning to abandon the Moulin Rouge and everyone in it.

She rummaged through her things, packing a small bag. As she moved around she looked into her mirror and saw Will, standing in the doorway.

“Forgive the intrusion, Kitty.”

“You’re wasting your time William.” She continued moving around the room, throwing a robe on.

“Stop this, you don’t understand.” Will’s usual rude tone was gone. His voice was calm and pleading. “You’re really going to abandon everything you’ve built here, everyone who cares for you here? What about the show? What about everything we’ve-“

Carmilla took her robe off and slammed it to the floor. _Now he pretends to care._

“I don’t need you anymore! All you’ve ever done is made me believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me!” She grabbed Laura’s coat and threw it back on, letting the smell envelope her senses. “But Laura loves me, Will. She. _Loves_. Me. And that is worth everything. We’re going away from you, away from the Dean, away from the Moulin Rouge! Goodbye, William.”

Carmilla made to leave.

“The Dean is going to kill Laura.” Will said slowly, as if he were having trouble speaking the words.

Carmilla stopped in her tracks. “No.” She felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her.

“The Dean is insanely jealous. Unless you do her ending and sleep with her tomorrow night, the Dean will have Laura killed.”

A tear fell from Carmilla’s eye. She swept some of the hair from her face and wiped the tear away, turning and walking over to Will.

“She can’t scare us.”

“She’s a powerful woman. You know she can do it. We’ve been here before, have we not? I don’t think she’ll be so forgiving a second time. If she wants to kill Laura, she’ll make sure it happens this time. There won’t be any examples made.”

Carmilla sat down and stayed silent for a minute. She knew The Dean would do it. She wanted to tell herself it didn’t matter, that she’d protect Laura from her, but she didn’t have that kind of power, not when it came to the Dean. She wanted Laura, she wanted her forever, but she also wanted her alive. Could she really risk Laura’s life for a chance they might survive, that they _might_ make it?

Carmilla was sickened by the hope she’d allowed herself to have. _One day I’ll fly away_. That’s what she used to tell herself. She was a fool. She was trapped at the Moulin Rouge and she should have never tried to convince herself otherwise.

She was trapped, but Laura wasn’t. _It ends today. It would all end today._

“Send Laura away. Only you can save her.”

“She’ll fight for me.” More tears fell.

“Yes, unless she believes you don’t love her.”

Carmilla looked frantically at Will.

“What?”

“You’re a great actress, Carmilla. _Make_ her believe you don’t love her.”

She inhaled sharply. “No. I can’t.”

“Use your talent to save her. Hurt her. Hurt her to save her. There isn’t another way. The show must go on, Carmilla. We’re creatures of the underworld. We can’t afford to love.”

Carmilla nodded.

“Today’s the day when dreaming ends.”

She smiled at herself in the mirror, and started to wipe her face with a tissue.

Inside her heart was breaking, but she had to find the will to carry on, for Laura.

The show must go on.

***

The sun was just starting to rise when the Carmilla opened the door of Laura’s apartment. Laura spun round from the now very familiar spot at the window and turned to face her. She knew something was wrong instantly; it was in Carmilla’s face and the way she was staring at her.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m staying with The Dean.” Laura blinked rapidly; she must have misheard that. “After I left you, the Dean came to me and she offered me everything, everything that I’ve ever dreamed of. She has one condition. I must never see you again,” Laura watched as Carmilla blinked back the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What- what are you talking about?” Laura tried to hide the tremble in her voice.

“You knew who I was.” Carmilla said flatly. Laura couldn’t remember seeing her so stoic and apathetic. It almost wasn’t real, except it _was_ real. She walked up to Carmilla.

“What about last night, what we said?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, sweetheart. The difference between you and I is that you can leave any time you choose. But this is my home. The _Moulin Rouge_ is my home.”

“No.” It was all Laura could get out. _No_. Carmilla loved her. They loved each other.

Carmilla turned her back to the writer and leant her head back. She was clearly hurting, so why was she doing this? Laura couldn’t stop the anger that was now building inside her.

“There must be something else, this can’t be real. There’s something the matter. Tell me what it is. Tell me what’s wrong!” Carmilla tried to leave but there was no way Laura was going to let her without an explanation, without an answer. She grabbed Carmilla’s arm and spun her back round towards to face her. Carmilla looked bored.

“What do you want me to say, cutie? You sold me a dream; the same way I sold you love. Now we’re both paying for it.” Carmilla laughed humourlessly and Laura thought it might be the most painful sound she’d ever heard.

Still, she refused to let go.

“Tell me the truth, Carm. Tell me the truth! Don’t do this to us. I’m begging you. This isn’t you this isn’t what you wanted. You’re doing exactly what Ell did! I love you and I _know_ you feel the same. You can tell me the truth.” Laura pleaded; she choked the words out in between sobs.

“The truth?” Carmilla could barely speak; the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall. Her composure was breaking. Laura could see how determined she was not to let that happen. “The truth is, none of it matters. I _am_ the Hindu courtesan, and I _choose_ the maharajah. That’s how the story really ends.”

Laura let go of her. She didn’t have any fight left in her. She didn’t have Carmilla.

Carmilla turned and left the apartment for the second time in the past twelve hours. Laura fell to her knees at the sight of it.

She was struggling to breathe through the sobs, but there were no tears, there was nothing left.

***

Another wave of resilience hit Laura; a final glimmer of hope, she couldn’t stop herself when she ran out of her apartment into the now pouring down rain. She couldn’t stop herself from running to the front of the Moulin Rouge. She couldn’t stop herself from screaming Carmilla’s name out.

She ran at the doors, not caring about the two doormen who were blocking her, in fact, she even attempted to fight her way past them. They each grabbed hold of an arm and dragged her to the road in front of the entrance, when she refused to relent, one of the doormen hit her in the face with the back of his hand. Laura was sent hurtling to the floor and for the first time in her life, she didn’t get back up.


	8. Opening Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura returns to the Moulin Rouge, one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter guys, enjoy!

Laura woke in a bed. _Her_ bed, she figured, as there was the same lump in the mattress that had always been there, the one with the spring that prodded into her lower back. The reason why Carmilla always made Laura sleep on the left side of the bed. It was emptier now though; it no longer had the same warmth that Laura had become so accustomed to waking up to.

Her head ached and any slight movement in her face made her right cheek sting. That’s when the memories stared flooding back and the heartbreak set in. She forced herself to open her eyes.

Cold, grey light was filling the room and she could hear the rain still falling outside. She was contemplating just going back to unconsciousness when she heard movement coming from the window. Her heart leapt and she sat upright, ignoring the pain shooting through her body.

Disappointment set in when she saw LaFontaine sat at the window, a blanket thrown over them. Laura was angry at the part of herself that had thought it might have been Carmilla. She moved back to sit against the headboard with tears in her eyes, telling herself it was due to the pain in her body but in truth, nothing hurt more than her heart.

LaFontaine looked over to Laura and seeing that she was awake, moved to her side in a flash.

“Hi,” They said softly. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

Laura just shook her head and looked straight ahead.

“What happened Laur? You were freezing to death when we found you. Danny, Kirsch and I brought you back here but we almost called the doctor out.”

“Carmilla is staying with the Dean. She doesn’t love me, she never did.” Laura said the words but she didn’t let them register with her brain, it was the only way she was able to even speak them. She didn’t even care to look at Laf’s reaction. She just didn’t care.

“I heard about that, but I meant how did you get hurt? How did you get into this state?”

Laura just ignored them and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk. She was thankful that instead of pushing, LaF just wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and placed a pillow between her back and the headboard. Normally Laura would have objected to being looked after, but she had to admit that she just didn’t have the energy.

LaFontaine pulled a chair up next to the bed and grabbed one of Laura’s books from the bedside table. The writer watched and tried to ignore the way her heart ached as LaF removed a bookmark that Carmilla must have placed in there only days ago. She stopped herself from reaching out and holding it.

The silence between the two of them lasted just about an hour before LaF closed the book and Laura felt eyes on her again. She hadn’t moved from against the headboard, she’d just been staring aimlessly out of the window, watching the rainfall against the glass.

“Things aren’t always as they seem, Laura.”

She almost laughed. “Things are EXACTLY as they seem, LaFontaine.” The bitterness rolled off of her tongue.

“Laura, you might only see me as a crazy, scientist-turned-actor whose friends are just as crazy theatre-dwellers, but I know about art and love, if only because I _long_ for it with every fiber of my being. She loves you. I _know_ it. I know she loves you.”

Laura gritted her teeth. No. They were wrong. Just like she herself had been. She couldn’t listen to the lies anymore.

“Go away, LaFontaine. Leave me alone.” LaFontaine stayed and Laura’s anger rose. 

“Go. Away.” They looked down, saddened and solemn, but stayed.

“GO AWAY!!” Laura screamed out and LaF left, defeated.

 She hadn’t meant to get so angry. It wasn’t their fault and she knew that. She’d still be lying in the street if it weren’t for LaF. So the guilt arrived and Laura broke apart. She lay down, wrapping herself up in the sheets that still smelled of Carmilla and prayed for sleep to come.

 She wanted to shut out what LaFontaine had said, but they had filled her with doubt, with sickening hope. Laura knew that there was only one way to be sure that Carmilla didn’t want her.

 *** 

Packing up her typewriter into its box, she went to the pawnshop and sold it for a wad of cash. She didn’t look back. She’d just sold her most prized possession, and didn’t feel anything. She wasn’t able to see beyond this, past any outcome, good or bad. She didn’t want to foolishly believe in the possibility of a happy ending, and at the very same time she couldn’t bare to think of a future without Carmilla. A typewriter would never be able to fix that kind of heartbreak.

Laura travelled only through the back alleys on her way to the Moulin Rouge. Despite it being opening night and the streets around it being inevitably busy, she knew there would be people keeping a special eye out for her and she didn’t want to risk it.

She used a back window that Carmilla had used so many times to sneak through after spending the night at Laura’s. The fact that Carmilla hadn’t told anyone about the entrance made Laura slightly more hopeful that Carmilla _did_ want to see her. Or maybe she just didn’t care enough to remember it.

Laura could hear Carmilla on stage singing as she wandered around backstage, trying her best to remain hidden from sight. The writer had already had a close call, however. The Dean’s manservant, Warner, a bald-headed beast of a man, had caught sight of Laura who had only just managed to evade him.

She knew Will’s solo scene was coming up next, which meant Carmilla would be coming off stage after the song, so she just had to remain hidden until then.

That _was_ her plan, until she saw Kirsch’s stunt double, Raymond, stood a few feet away from her, drinking something undeniably alcoholic out of a flask. He was questionably smaller than Kirsch, more like Laura’s size, but that hadn’t mattered in auditions as he was only required to backflip across stage in one of the dance scenes.

He was wearing a white suit with silver patterns along the shoulders of the jacket. It was the sitar player’s final outfit. A new plan formed in Laura’s mind. She figured it’d be easier to get close to Carmilla if she could pass as one of the many cast members.

She bribed Raymond to let her take his place and, in his intoxicated state, saw the money and was all too obliged to strip off and give Laura the suit. Once she was dressed, she made her way to where she knew Carmilla would be exiting the stage in a matter of minutes. She stayed hidden for as long as she could, but Carmilla was coming off next and Laura had to get to her. 

*** 

Carmilla watched the Dean in the audience as she finished vocalising on her ‘Diamonds’ number. She was slightly breathless as it was one of the most physically demanding scenes in the play.

Will, in character as the Maharajah, came behind her and placed a diamond necklace around her neck. The same necklace the Dean had gotten her, but now obviously mended and restored. He placed his hands on her possessively from behind and they both looked straight ahead of them, into the audience.

“She is mine.” The curtain closed after Will said his line and the theatre erupted into cheers and applause.

Carmilla immediately yanked herself from Will’s embrace and headed to her dressing room. There was only a short scene until she had to go back on and she needed a place to catch her breath, alone. 

In her dressing room, Carmilla clutched the edge of the dressing table as she doubled over in pain. Not physical pain, but the internal heartbreak she felt whenever she was alone, whenever she thought of Laura.

A sound from behind her made her jump and she looked up into her mirror. The reflection showed just the white suit of the sitar player, his face hidden by shadows. She sighed, annoyed.

“What do you want, Raymond? You useless drunk.”

Carmilla gasped when Laura stepped into the light. Turning to face the writer, she felt her heart thumping in her chest.

Laura began walking toward her slowly and Carmilla’s pain deepened when she saw the cuts on Laura’s cheek. She almost asked who’d done that to her, but ultimately Carmilla knew; anything Laura had been through was her fault.

She yearned to grab hold of Laura - to kiss her pain away, to caress her wounds, to love her.

But she couldn’t. And seeing the look on her face, that cold, incensed look, Carmilla wasn’t sure Laura would even want her to.

“I’ve come to pay my bill.” Laura said, resentfully.

Still breathless from being on stage, Carmilla’s breath quickened even more so.

“You- you shouldn’t be here, Laura. Just leave.” Carmilla said as sternly as she could, and walked out of her dressing room. She needed to get Laura out of there and she also needed to be on stage soon. If she didn’t show the Dean would certainly come looking for her and Carmilla couldn’t bear the thought of her finding Laura.

Laura was as relentless as ever though, even when Carmilla quickened her pace toward the stage she could hear the writer following close behind her.

Suddenly Laura grabbed her and pulled her in, making the courtesan inhale sharply.

“You made me believe that you loved me. Why shouldn’t I pay you?”

“Please, Laura…” Carmilla pleaded, trying to pull away. Their commotion hadn’t gone unnoticed apparently, and Perry was soon by Carmilla’s side.

“She needs to go on stage, Laura. Please, you need to leave.” Perry said as she placed a hand softly on the writer’s. 

Will’s voice could be heard on stage and the three of them fell silent. 

_“_ _Jealousy has driven the sitar player into hiding!”_

Carmilla watched Laura tense up at Will’s words, but felt the grip on her arm loosen. She took it as a chance to turn and get away but Laura refused to let her.

“You did your job so _very_ , _very_ well! Why can’t I pay you like everyone else does?” Laura said, holding back sobs.

Tears were forming in Carmilla’s eyes now. The combination of malice and pain in Laura’s voice was too much to stomach.

“Don’t, Laura. There’s no point, ju-just leave.”

 _“But I have found them!”_ Carmilla heard Will’s voice. That was her cue to get to the stage door. She pulled and pulled but Laura would not let go.

Perry had returned with the stage manager and Kirsch. Carmilla was beyond relieved that she hadn’t gone straight to Warner.

“Stop her! Stop her! Stop her!” The stage manager shouted to Kirsch.

He made to softly grab Laura from behind but she let go of Carmilla and elbowed him right in the stomach and he fell to the floor, winded.

Carmilla made to get away and reached the stage door but as she got there she saw Warner at the other end of the narrow passage they were in. He was coming toward her and Laura with a gun in his hand. She screamed and turned to the oblivious writer.

“Go, Laura. Baby, please. GO!” Carmilla was sure she was having a panic attack as she desperately pushed at an unmoving Laura.

“If it wasn’t real, then why can’t I pay you?” Laura spat. Carmilla cupped Laura’s face and continued to beg, but Laura removed her hands and held her by her wrists.

 _“Open the palace doors!”_ Will shouted from the stage. It was the stagehands cue to open the door at which Carmilla and Kirsch should have been stood, where now instead Laura had Carmilla on the floor.

The stagehand missed his cue, clearly hesitant to reveal the current situation to a theatre full of people.

“Tell me you don’t love me!” Laura implored Carmilla.

“ _Open the door!!”_ Will repeated, and the stage manager instructed the stagehand to just open it.

Tears were falling freely down Carmilla’s face as she attempted to stand back up to block Laura from an approaching Warner.

“Let me pay you! Let me pay!” Laura cried, holding the cash she’d made from her typewriter in Carmilla’s face.

Then the stage door opened and Laura and Carmilla were flooded in bright, blinding light.

There were a few gasps in the audience, and Will looked between the two of them with a mixture of confusion and dismay on his face.

The two women remained motionless, like rabbits caught in headlights.

Carmilla looked at Will and waited for him to improvise them out of this. He looked at the audience, then to the Dean, who was sat frozen in her seat, and then back to Laura and Carmilla.

“Hahaha! I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard and adopts an interesting disguise as a woman, my eyes do not lie. For it is he, the same penniless sitar player!”

The audience chorused a resounding ‘Oh!’ but Carmilla could spot some disbelieving faces as she looked to the audience. Overall, however, it had seemed to work.

Will drew his sword and pointed it at Laura. “He is driven mad by jealousy!”

Laura hesitated for a moment, and then began walking down the steps of the stage door, dragging Carmilla behind her then dropping her to the floor. Carmilla looked up at her panting.

Laura, looking straight at the Dean but appearing to be addressing the still clueless audience, pointed to Carmilla.

“This woman is yours now.” The writer threw the money in her hand at Carmilla’s feet. “I’ve paid my whore.”

The audience gasped and Carmilla let out a sob. Laura continued, her hazel eyes welling up.

“I owe you nothing. And you are nothing to me.” She choked back sobs. “Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love.”

Carmilla cried as Laura turned and walked down the stairs of the stage. She watched as the writer walked down the isle. Her heart stopped as Laura paused in front of the Dean, stared at her with utter hatred, then continued down the aisle.

Carmilla’s head fell as Laura walked away from her: her least favourite sight in the world.

Will’s voice filled the theatre. “This sitar player doesn’t love you! See, he flees the kingdom!” He then knelt down next to Carmilla and whispered for just her to hear. “Kitty, it’s for the best. You know it is. The show must go on.”

Carmilla shook her head, her face glistening with fallen tears.

Will ignored her despair and continued, helping Carmilla to her feet. “And now, my bride, it is time for you to raise your voice to the heavens…”

Carmilla could still see Laura nearing the back of the theatre; she’d taken off the sitar player’s coat and thrown it to the floor.

“…and say your wedding vows.” Carmilla’s head dropped again and Will cupped her cheek, attempting to keep it up.

Carmilla was sure she was about to run from the stage when LaFontaine’s voice sounded from somewhere backstage.

“THE GREATEST THING YOU’LL EVER LEARN IS JUST TO LOVE, AND BE LOVED IN RETURN.” Their shout echoed throughout the theatre, and everyone in the building seemed to pause, including Laura and Carmilla, in a moment of clarity.

And in that moment, everything became clear to Carmilla. It all seemed so simple. Everything her heart was broken over, everything Laura’s heart was broken over, all the painful choices, it all seemed irrelevant.

She loved Laura. Laura loved her. And it _was_ the greatest thing. Loving Laura Hollis was the greatest thing she’d ever known.

She didn’t care about anything else, just Laura.

So she turned her head round to look for Laura, who’d stopped in the aisle but hadn’t turned round.

Carmilla sang their song.

_Never knew I could feel like this_

Laura carried on walking a few steps but Carmilla continued.

_It’s like I’ve never seen the sky before_

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

Laura stopped and Carmilla smiled widely.

_Every day I'm loving you more and more_

_Listen to my heart_  
  
Laura turned around to look at her and so she sang louder and walked along the stage.  
  
_Can you hear it sing?_  
  
_Come back to me_  
  
_And forgive everything_  


Carmilla sang with more meaning than she had ever done before. 

_Seasons may change_  
  
_Winter to spring_  
  
She looked to Laura who was still watching over her shoulder, now with a small smile on her face, a smile that Carmilla would die for in order to keep there.

“I love you.” Carmilla whispered it but she knew everyone in the room knew exactly what she’d said.

_Till the end of time_

Laura turned round fully and started to sing back. 

_Come What May_

The audience turned and there were gasps of surprise all around.

_Come What May_

_I will love you_

Carmilla laughed happily and started to sing alongside Laura, who was now walking back down the aisle toward the stage.

_I will love you_

_Until my dying day_

Carmilla watched her climb the stairs of the stage and couldn’t recall a time when she’d been happier. Watching the woman she loved come back to her after everything, love her after everything, brought her more joy than she could have ever wished for. The two of them had stopped singing now and were just smiling widely at one another.

The rest of the cast on stage, prompted by LaFontaine who’d now arrived from backstage, began singing the original finale song, ignoring the Dean’s wishes. Even Will was singing along. 

When Laura got to her Carmilla pulled her close and their foreheads met.

“Laura," she whispered, in love with the feeling of Laura in her arms.

“Don’t say anything. Just kiss me. Please.” Laura breathed out.

Everything felt like the first time again; the warmth of Laura’s breath against her skin made it tingle. Her thumb caressed the bruise on Laura’s cheek and then moved to her lips. The lips she’d fallen in love with, belonging to the girl she’d fallen in love with. Carmilla leaned forward slowly, tucking a stray hair behind Laura’s ear, until she couldn’t wait any longer and their lips met. Her heart swelled as she felt Laura smile into the kiss. No one else mattered. No one else would ever matter.

Or at least it seemed that way, until a scream came from behind the two of them.

They turned to see Warner crouched at the back of the stage, pointing his gun at Laura. Carmilla immediately threw herself in front of the writer and braced herself for the sound of the gunshot, but it never came.

Instead there was a pained grunt from Warner and the sound of the gun hitting the floor quite some distance away. Carmilla opened her eyes to see Danny and Kirsch casually moving an unconscious Warner offstage.

As if waking from a dream, Carmilla was suddenly reminded of the Dean’s presence and her head snapped toward the audience. The Dean was just starting to walk down the aisle toward the exit, and for the smallest moment Carmilla thought she might have finally given up. They might have actually won.

Then she watched as something on the floor of the aisle caught the Dean’s eye. It was small and Carmilla couldn’t make it out until it was the Dean’s hand. Dread filled every inch of her when she realised what it was.

It was Warner’s gun, Warner’s gun in the Dean’s hand.


	9. Our Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at endings, sorry!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos or commented on this fic! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.
> 
> Feel free to talk to me about it on my tumblr (myapatheticnature), if you loved it or you hated it, I don't mind!
> 
> I'm also thinking of writing a Hollstein 'A Walk to Remember' AU. One with a happier ending of course! Let me know if that's something you'd like?
> 
> THANK YOU AGAIN <3

Laura followed Carmilla’s gaze and spotted the Dean stood in the aisle with the gun in hand. Carmilla was still stood in front of her, shielding her, but Laura would be damned if she let the Dean harm another hair on Carmilla’s head.

However, the Dean was already moving rapidly toward the stage and had now lifted the gun, aiming it at the two women.

She was shouting something like ‘mine’ Laura thought, but her attention was now fully on protecting Carmilla, just as Carmilla’s was on protecting her.

It seemed as though Carmilla was content with just taking a bullet for Laura, making some noble sacrifice, and while Laura appreciated the gesture, she wanted _both_ of them alive. She couldn’t go on without her.

So she practically rugby tackled Carmilla to the side of the stage, hopefully powerfully enough that they would land out of sight, in the wings. Just as she made contact with Carmilla, however, a gunshot went off.

Laura landed on top of Carmilla with a grunt, and when she opened her eyes they were in complete darkness. The curtain had been closed.

Will burst through the curtain nursing very red knuckles.

“Is everyone alright? Where’s Carmilla? I just knocked the Dean clean out but she managed to shoot before I got to her.” His voice came through the darkness, the panic apparent in his voice.

Laura smiled. “You hear that Carm? Will just KO’d the Dean.” She said to the girl underneath her.

It was only when Carmilla just moaned in pain that Laura started to worry. She flipped Carm from being on her stomach so that she was now lying on her back. The writer gasped when she saw her face.

There was a thin, striking red slash across Carmilla’s right cheekbone, and blood was flooding from it. The bullet must have just caught her.

“Somebody help! I need a bandage, a cloth, anything! And get the doctor.”

Laura was straddling Carmilla but moved off to lie next to her when Perry ran over with fresh bandages. The redhead held a damp cloth to Carmilla’s cheek and she winced in pain.

“Carm, it’s okay baby, you’re going to be okay.” Laura ran her fingers through the other woman’s dark hair and kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Laura.” Carmilla wheezed out, clearly exhausted and in pain.

“Shh. Shh. Don’t talk. We have plenty of time for me to shout at you.” Laura smiled through newly formed tears.

Carmilla smiled at that. “Does it make me sexier?”

Laura’s brow knitted in confusion. “What?”

Even Perry, who’d been inwardly fretting up until now, seemed amused and confused.

“The huge gash in my face, cupcake. Does it make me sexier?” Carmilla said, exasperated at Laura’s puzzlement.

When Laura cottoned on, she smiled wide. “Absolutely.”

***

“Hi, beautiful.” Laura stood in the doorway of her apartment. Carmilla was sat at the window, reading a book. She looked up and grinned when she heard Laura’s voice. The sunlight from outside highlighted the right side of her face, illuminating the bright red scar, the reminder.

The scar was big and beautiful, but it still paled in comparison to that beautiful smile. Laura crossed the room, passing boxes and boxes filled with all of the writers’ possessions, and some of Carmilla’s.

Carmilla lifted her legs and Laura sat down in the free space. Then the taller woman was sat in her lap and Laura was quick to wrap her arms around her waist.

“You’re supposed to be packing, not reading.”

“I did pack! A whole box, actually, but it’s okay, I’m no hero.” Carmilla said with a wink.

“Oh, well, excuse me. I just-“ Carmilla cut her off with a kiss.

“Please don’t start shouting again. I’ll do it, I promise.”

“You make me sound like a nagging wife! And you _are_ a hero.” Laura said with sincerity.

“That’s funny, because all my efforts to save your life have landed me in nothing but trouble with you…” The dark-haired girl teased.

“I mean, save my life as much as you want, that’s not a problem. It’s just your methods I disagree with.” Laura hadn’t meant it in a serious way, but the look of guilt on Carmilla’s face made her wish she’d worded that sentence better.

“I’m sorr-“ Carmilla started.

“-Don’t you dare. We’ve talked about this. You were trying to save me. You were hurting too, Carm.”

“I just hate what I put you through.”

“You did it for the right reasons, you know you did. But, I suppose if you _really_ wanted to make it up to me, I have something in mind…”

Laura was about to suggest something incredibly inappropriate, to keep the mood light, but stopped when Carmilla took her hand and brought it to her mouth. She looked into Laura’s eyes and pressed her lips to the back of the writer’s hand. “Anything.” She whispered.

Laura wished there was a way to rid Carmilla of her remorse. It was so misplaced. Laura would have done the same thing in her position. It had been over a week since opening night, and while they were happy and in love, Laura knew that Carmilla was still carrying all this guilt.

Telling Carmilla to not feel guilty evidently wasn’t working, so she decided to go along with it.

“Tell me you love me.” Laura stated.

Carmilla looked lost at the simplicity of it and Laura had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

“Laura, that can’t be-“

“Everyday. Whenever you feel it, or think it. Even if I’m mid-sentence or I’m writing, tell me you love me. If you can’t sleep and you want to tell me then wake me up. Don’t ever let me doubt your love, and I’ll never give you a reason to doubt mine. Deal?”

Carmilla nodded and small smile reached her face. “I _do_ love you. Always.”

***

Dear LaFontaine and Perry,

Well, we arrived in the States safely. The boat ride was incredibly long and a grumpy and bored Carmilla did nothing to improve the situation. However, when the boat docked Carmilla’s new agent, Matska Belmonde, welcomed us and Carm seemed to perk up (for reasons I will never know).

She seemed much nicer when she approached us back in Paris, the day after Opening Night, and offered Carmilla and me jobs here in America. It actually turns out that she’s just as snarky as Carmilla, and the two hit it off immediately. On my part however, I think she’ll take some getting used to.

Anyway, I’m writing you this letter (on MY OLD TRUSTY TYPEWRITER which Carm bought back for me) to say thank you. Both Carm and I felt our goodbyes were rushed, and we owe you both so much. That goes for Kirsch and Danny as well (tell them we say hello).

Also, congratulations on your engagement! I’m so happy for you, so is Carm but she is also incredibly smug, and would like me to tell Perry that ‘She told you so!” Sorry Perr, I got her back by informing her that I’m waiting for her to propose next, she quickly went silent aha!

We hope that the Dean-free Moulin Rouge! is treating you all well, and that you’re keeping William in line. That place is better off in your hands, LaFontaine - you deserve it.

I’ll wrap this up, as I need to get started on the first draft of my book. Carmilla doesn’t start rehearsals for another week but she’s got plenty of unpacking to do while I work.

I promise that when the book is finished I’ll send over a few copies to you guys first.

I can’t wait to tell the world our story.

All my love,

Laura Hollis (soon to be Karnstein, I hope!)

-This is Carmilla. I just want it to be put on record that Laura Hollis is not easily pleased. I just bought her a typewriter, unpacked a whole two boxes and now she wants marriage. Send help.

**Author's Note:**

> http://myapatheticnature.tumblr.com/


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